For The First Time
by tcsportsmed7
Summary: Ryan never met Sandy and ended up in a group home. Years later, he meets Summer in the town where she attends college. They fall in love and have a child, but then fall on extreme hard times. Can their marriage survive when everything else falls apart?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, guys. First of all, I'd like to say that I am really sorry I haven't updated my other story, "That's What Friends Are For" for quite some time. I realize I left it on an evil cliff hanger, but I promise to finish that story. I've been working on it, but it's a really complex story as it goes on and it's a bit difficult to write and I've been really preoccupied with the stresses of life, working, and studying so I haven't gotten around to finishing Ch. 5 yet. What I'm going to do is keep writing the story until I get to around Ch. 7 or so and then start posting again so that you guys won't have to wait months for an update once I do start posting it again.**

**In the mean time, I've written this Ryan/Summer story so hopefully this will give you all a little something to read while you're waiting for the other story. Actually I'm almost completely done with this story so the updates should be pretty quick depending on how many reviews I get. The faster you review and the more reviews I get, the quicker I'll post the other chapters. This one will be 5 chapters (and I've written at least 75% of the story already). **

**I'm not sure how many of you are Ryan/Summer fans, but I love the AU idea of them. Don't worry... this is AU and Ryan never lived with the Cohens so he never even knew Seth... and let's face it... if Ryan hadn't come to Newport on the show, Summer would have never dated Seth. Also, she thought Ryan was hot and even wanted him to be her white knight at Cotillion on the show so she clearly was drawn to him and this is realistic.**

**All the background you need to know about Ryan and Summer will be revealed at some point in the story. You learn a little more each chapter. Ch. 1 is from Summer's point of view and Ch. 2 is from Ryan's. The POV keeps switching back and forth in that way, and their voices are written in "stream of consciousness" form and writing the dialogue for this story was a lot of fun. Ch. 2 has a lot of daddy!Ryan in it so you can look forward to that. ;-)  
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**This story is based loosely on the song "For The First Time" by The Script so if you've never heard it before, go listen to it and you'll get an idea of where I'm going with this. You know I love angst and h/c so things will get far worse for the Atwood family before they get better, but I promise by the end, this story should be really touching and will have a happy ending. It's a very adult-like story and addresses many issues that plague our society today including lack of health insurance, unemployment, etc. and it's a story about two people struggling but standing by each others' side and putting their daughter first no matter what.**

**I want to thank beachtree once again for giving some wonderful insight and helping me with the story.**

**Sorry for the ramble! Now here is the first chapter!**

**~*~*~*~*~CHAPTER ONE~*~*~*~*~**

I stare out one of the sliding windows of our modest two bedroom house, waiting for my husband to come home. After standing there for several minutes with still no sign of him, I sigh and grab the latest issue of Vanity Fair before making myself comfortable on the loveseat in our cozy living room. Yes, I'm 27-years-old and married with a gorgeous four-year-old girl and I still read fashion and gossip magazines. I really don't know if I could survive without knowing what stars just had a nip/tuck or who were the best/worst dressed celebrities on the red carpet at the Oscars. Plus, Johnny Depp is on the cover and he is _totally_ hot.

Another half hour passes, and worry is beginning to damper my otherwise placid mood. It's a quarter past eight, and I still have no clue where Chino's sorry ass is. Of course, I don't mean the insults. After all, he's a great guy, a great father, and a great husband. I couldn't have asked for someone more caring. I'm just worried about him, which lately seems to happen a lot.

I chuckle softly as I realize what I just called him. _Chino_ was the nickname I gave him shortly after we met in college at a small coffee shop called _Aromas__ Coffee__ &__ Cafe_. At the time we met, we were both twenty-one. I was in my third year at UCLA studying art history with a minor in environmental studies and he had just begun studying math and pre-architecture at a nearby community college hoping to transfer to a four year school eventually. He'd been the first person I'd ever met from Chino, CA, and well... back then I had this thing where I refused to call people by their first names. It's been a while since I've called him _Chino_ out loud, but he'll always be _Chino_ to me in my thoughts. I wonder if he misses the nickname though. When we're having a serious conversation I typically just call him _Ryan_, but most of the time I still affectionately call him _Atwood_. Maybe tonight I'll call him _Woody_ just to piss him off. Kidding!

Anyway, the more time passes, the more impatient I get. _Chino's_ usually home by at least seven in the evening to eat dinner with me and Alana. We normally just eat take-out or something simple that I can make with my limited cooking skills like spaghetti and meat sauce. Sometimes he shows up even earlier so that he can cook for us. He's one hell of a good cook, but lately he hasn't been getting home early enough and when he does come home, he's always too exhausted.

I feel a tiny hand tugging at my arm, and I turn my head to see two large, bright blue eyes looking back at me. Alana has my dark brown hair color, but she definitely got her eyes from her dad. We often affectionately call her _Lani._

"Mommy?" She murmurs. She's so quiet that sometimes I have to strain my ears just to hear her. I smile again as I think about how similar she is to her dad in personality.

"Yes, baby. What's wrong?" I ask, picking her up and rocking her back and forth in my arms.

"Where's Daddy?" She pouts, and I'm reminded once again of her dad. Who can resist such an adorable facial expression? When she and Atwood make their "pouty" faces, they both remind me of a cute, sad puppy dog. Yeah, she's definitely Daddy's little girl.

"He's out working late, but he'll be home soon, sweetie. Want to watch a movie before bed?"

I can't hide my grin as her face lights up. She's definitely the greatest gift my hubby has given to me. I mean... he's given me tons, but our daughter tops the list by far. She's my pride and joy and my whole life now revolves around keeping her happy.

I work during the day in Nordstroms at Chanel as a retail cosmetic beauty adviser. Basically that means I am the head adviser in the make-up department for Chanel products in Nordstroms at South Coast Plaza. I also do work with ASPCA (The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty Towards Animals) and Keep America Beautiful, inc. during my free time.

A regular work day has me going at it between nine in the morning and six in the evening for four days a week, but I get about an hour of free time for my lunch break, which begins around noon. Sometimes I visit lover boy (Atwood) at his job during this time, though not so much lately since three weeks ago he asked me not to—saying he no longer is allowed a break. I don't think he's lying—I mean, he's not a liar or a cheater. That still doesn't stop me from sometimes getting suspicious, but I love him so I've gotta trust him, right? Anyhoo, looks like my mind just went off on a tangent again. The point of all this is, I pick Lani up from day care at around a 6:15 in the evening and get home by 6:30 and by 7:00 Ryan is usually here, but now it's almost 9:00 and his sexy ass is still nowhere to be seen.

"Yes, pwease. A movie sounds gweat," Lani's soft voice interrupts my thoughts. She's still having difficulty pronouncing her L's and R's, and she's so cute that I have to fight the urge to pinch one of her chubby cheeks. She definitely got the politeness from her dad too because that sure as hell isn't the way I grew up talking to my parents. Nope. Definitely not. I was even worse around the evil step monster after my mom left us, and when I had a rage black out? Let's just say momma was a force to be reckoned with.

"Beauty and the... Beeeast!" She exclaims playfully while emphasizing the word _beast_.

I roll my eyes. There's only so many times I can watch this movie, but it's her favorite so I turn on the TV, grab the remote, and slip the DVD in, hoping it will get her mind off of her dad's tardiness.

About half an hour later, she's fallen asleep so I carry her up to her bedroom and tuck her in. My husband is quite the artist, and he fixed up her bedroom all by himself. The walls are decorated with colorful images from Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King. Go figure. But it's so ridiculously cute! I'll give him that for sure. When I was Lani's age, my room was decorated with My Little Pony. To this day, I still hide Princess Sparkles in my purse, which Dickwood likes to tease me about. Ha! I'm so kidding again! I'd never call my hubby that. I'm not _that_ mean...

I kiss Lani's forehead gently and place her favorite teddy bear in her arms before turning off the light and slipping out of her room to get ready for sleepy time myself.

I smile inwardly thinking about the months I was pregnant with her. Ryan and I had begun dating probably a month after we met. After two years, I'd finally graduated from UCLA and that very day he proposed. We got married a month later despite my dad's initial disapproval, and just one month after that, I found out I was pregnant.

He was perfect during the entire pregnancy. He never missed a doctor's appointment, he put up with my mood swings, catered to my every need, and even went to every lamaze class with me. I'll never forget when I woke up earlier than usual one Saturday morning and found him up building a nursery for our daughter. The gesture alone was sexier than Mario Lopez's abs. Plus, he was barefoot and wearing a white tank top with a pair of washed out jeans, which is so freakin' hot, especially if you've ever seen Atwood's biceps. And did I mention how much he turns me on when working with tools? I better stop or I'll have an orgasm just thinking about it.

Okay, that was _totally_ random. So anyway... the most fun I had during the pregnancy was probably picking out baby names with him. I was also grateful to him for humoring me and putting on a couple of sympathy pounds just to placate me during the months I was feeling like a fat cow. It didn't show though. He was just as sexy as ever, and if anything, any extra weight just went to his biceps. God I love his biceps. Have I already mentioned how much I love his biceps? I'm getting hot just thinking about it... Wait, where was I going with this again? Oh, yeah! Okay, so at the time of my pregnancy, he was also still going to school while working an extra job as a secretary in a small architectural firm nearby. He was dead set on making enough money to support me and our unborn daughter, and I loved him for it. Well, I love him no matter what, but his dedication to our family made me love him even more. By the time he'd get home on the weekdays, he was always drained, but that still didn't stop him from giving me his undivided attention.

Picking up my toothbrush and reaching for the faucet, I continue to think about how perfect our little family is. An hour later I find myself tossing and turning in bed and growing increasingly more worried by the second. Where is he? If he's running late, he usually at least calls. Not to mention, I tried calling several times and can't reach him! Jerk. I mean, for heaven's sake… it's already 10:30!

I hop out of bed and turn the light on. I guess maybe reading another one of my magazines will help kill the time. This time I pick up Cosmo. Jessica Biel is on the cover. I always did like Mary on 7th Heaven. Too bad she went all crazy and turned into the family's black sheep. I turn several pages and see an interview with Enrique Iglesias. I guess he was "hottie of the week." God that makes sense because he's definitely hot. Those abs! Yep, this should undoubtedly help take my jumbled mind off of Chino's whereabouts for a few minutes—or at least help ease the pain of waiting.

Sure enough, another half an hour flies by and finally I hear the front door creak open, and I breathe in a sigh of relief now knowing that my husband is okay. Sometimes I admit I probably worry more about him than I should, but after the motorcycle accident he was in three years ago, I just can't help it.

Even the memory of it gets me all emotional. When I got the phone call that night from an officer telling me he was in a serious accident and was rushed to the ER, I thought I was going to lose him. Even worse, so did Lani. Well, she was only a one-year-old at the time so I guess she didn't _really_ know what was going on, but I can't remember ever seeing her cry as much as she did then. She definitely missed her daddy while he was in the hospital—I'll tell you that.

Thank God his injuries weren't more serious. I mean... they were very serious... I don't want to play them down or anything. After all, his right hip was fractured badly leaving him with some permanent damage to the sciatic nerve, which was a devastating blow to him at the time since the doctors kept telling him he'd never walk normally again. He also suffered a grade 2 concussion during the accident and bruising all along his right side. Not to mention he'd broken his right arm in two places. His hip and arm injuries required immediate surgery, and his hip fracture later required a total hip replacement surgery. Of course, with Chino's luck he'd gotten an infection, and the damn thing never healed properly. Part of me also blames the complications on his health insurance coverage at the time—or lack thereof is definitely more accurate.

But still... it could have been so much worse. After all, the first night he was in the hospital, the doctors weren't even sure he'd live through the night. See? So at that point, I was willing to take any positive news I could get! As time passed, he'd even almost made a full recovery and after eight months of intense physical therapy, he was back on his feet despite the nagging hip pain that has lingered. On his worst days, the limp is very noticeable. On his best days, he can almost walk without a limp and those are the days he goes to the gym. He used to enjoy running, especially to blow off steam, but sadly he had to give that up so now he swims instead.

By the sound of his uneven footsteps tonight, I can tell that today must have been one of his bad days. _Really_ bad days, in fact. Maybe I'll give him a massage after he climbs into bed.

I'm proud of him though—more proud than he'll ever know. He's always been a fighter, and he progressed better than anyone had expected during his physical therapy sessions, although I do worry about the amount of pain medication he still needs on his bad days.

I continue listening to the sound of his familiar footsteps as he makes his way up the stairs. I hear Lani's door open, and I know he must be kissing her goodnight. Both corners of my mouth curve up into a content smile. He's been such a good dad to her. He's been working so hard lately, and he really deserves a break.

You see... after the accident, Ryan couldn't afford to transfer to a four year school to finish his degree so in the mean time, he's been working as an assistant to an architect in a moderately prestigious building company while also maintaining his job as a waiter in an upscale restaurant called The Lighthouse on the weekends. What happened is... since he didn't have health insurance, my dad helped him the best he could.

Initially Daddy wasn't Chino's biggest fan because of his background, but after seeing how devoted he was to me and Lani, he quickly developed a soft spot for the boy who had stolen my heart. When Chino was in the hospital, the bills were very costly and after his recovery, the physical therapy he needed was even more expensive. During this time, Daddy helped us with the hospital bills and also got us this wonderful house and I, in turn, got a secure job. Thanks, Dad!

Anyway, Ryan's goal is to save up enough money to support me and Lani while still having enough to go back and finish his degree in architecture. What I haven't told him is, my dad and I plan to give him the funds he needs for his birthday, which is coming up in a couple of months. Last I checked, my dad can finally afford it... or he'll be able to I think. After being sued one million dollars for malpractice by a patient last year, hiring a top lawyer had drained his pockets of cash, but now the case is almost coming to a close and it looks like he's going to win.

When Ryan finally gets to go back to his studies, he'll only have one year of coursework left if he can get into a four year school. I know it would mean a whole lot to him. He's overcome so many obstacles in his life and he never experienced a loving family before me and Lani. His asshole parents certainly never showed him love. And his brother, Trey, tried to, but he's still in prison for burglary. You see? _Chino's_ nothing like them. He deserves whatever success he gets.

"Hey, my love," Ryan's soft, husky voice captures my attention as he enters our bedroom. I still get butterflies when he calls me his _love_. And must his voice be _so_ damn sexy? The perfect mix of manliness and vulnerability? Damn you, Atwood. Sometimes you make me love you too fucking much, but I wouldn't change these feelings for the world.

He gives me a loving smile and my heart flutters like I'm a twelve-year-old girl with a school boy crush.

"I'm home," he adds quietly as he takes off his leather jacket and hangs it in our spacious closet. He then kicks off his shoes and reaches into his drawer for a white tank top and a pair of boxers.

"No shit, Sherlock!" I reply, unable to resist teasing him. My attempt at humor gets a soft chuckle out of him. I know I'm not particularly funny at this time of night, but my stomach still does flip flops when he humors me.

He limps over towards our king size bed and winces as he struggles to stay standing. Poor guy.

"Did you take your pain meds today?" I ask.

"Nah," He replies, unbuttoning his rumpled light blue dress shirt and unbuckling his belt before slipping off his black work slacks. "I, uh... kind of ran out."

"How do you kind of run out, Atwood?"

"You know, you're an Atwood too," Ryan smirks. Bastard.

"This is not a game, Dufus! Either you ran out of meds or you didn't!" I snap, pissed that he's not taking proper care of himself.

"Summer...," he says. His voice is pleading as his demeanor visibly deflates, and it's almost like he's expending all his energy just trying to hold it together. And God, not the puppy dog eyes! I can read Ryan like a book, and right now I'm definitely not getting high frequency vibes from him. He's vibrating at a very _low_ frequency, in fact. Red rims circle his tired eyes and his body is more tense than he probably wants to let on. Something's wrong—something that probably runs far deeper than the pain he's feeling in his hip from not taking his pain medication. I'm also guessing it's going to take me all night to get him to talk about it, but I'll get it out of him alright—even if I have to tie him down to the bed and tickle his stomach until he gives in. He hates when I do that, but nobody born with the last name Roberts takes _no_ for an answer.

"Enjoying the view?" Ryan asks in a mischievous tone, interrupting my train of thought. He really is an enigma. One minute he looks miserable and sad and the next minute his facade is back up and he's teasing me again. He gives me a devilish grin,and it's only then that I notice I've been staring at his body while he changes. His hot, hot body may I add. And did I mention **HOT**?

His abs are still just as defined as when I met him. I can tell he's lost some weight in the past month though. I guess I'll just add that to my list of things to worry about. Last thing I want is for Atwood to turn into a walking skeleton. Scrawny guys? Uh-uh. They just don't do anything for me. Still, I'm always in awe of how perfect he looks in my eyes. I'm starting to figure out that whether he's a little stocky, medium built, or a lean, mean muscle-machine, he'll always be damn sexy and perfect to me. Plus, he's not too tall so our bodies fit together perfectly. There goes that word again. _Perfect_. Even his right hip is perfect to me. Hell—if he wasn't standing so awkwardly, I wouldn't even know anything was wrong with it. This Chino boy's really put a spell on me, and I like it.

"I guess that's a yes," He answers his own question with a smug grin on that freakishly adorable face of his, and I can feel my cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. He got me. I _am_ enjoying the view. How many times am I going to have to say _damn__ you,__ Atwood_ in one night?

Instead of feeding his ego though, I bite down on my lower lip and say, "Ass hole" and he laughs.

I'd complain just for the hell of it, but I love to see him laugh. He was always so somber when I first met him. Over the years I've known him, he's loosened up quite a bit though the accident was definitely a setback. Still, like I said before, by now I can read him like a book and behind that laugh is a very distressed man, and I'm going to get to the bottom of whatever is making my hubby upset tonight.

"Where were you? Why didn't you call? I was worried sick!" I suddenly lash out, hitting him as hard as I can on the face with my pillow. "Don't you ever do that to me again, do you understand me?" I shout, gritting my teeth and punctuating the 'ever do that to me again' part with six more hits.

"I...," He tries to get a word in, but I cut him off with yet another smack on the face. Good thing this thing is made of down feathers and cotton or Atwood would have some serious bruising.

"No excuses, Chino! You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days!" I exclaim. He begins chuckling, and now I'm tempted to smack him with a book instead of a pillow. Must be one of my rage black out flare ups again.

"I'm being serious, you jerk! What's so funny?"

"You just called me _Chino_." He gives me a half smile. I love it when he goes for the half smile. "I just missed you calling me that. That's all," He adds softly, and I can't stop my own grin from forming.

"I'm sorry I overreacted," I say calmly. All agitation is now out of my system. Atwood has that effect on me when he smiles. "It's just... it's bad enough I still think about the night you almost...the night you... the accident...," I trail off, noticing as his eyes become distant.

"My phone died," He says, looking down and shrugging his shoulders. As he shifts his weight closer to my side of the bed and sits down, I notice him grimacing in pain again. He looks so vulnerable when he does that, and I just want to hug him and take the pain away. Okay, now I probably sound like I'm eight.

"Then why didn't you charge the phone, Numb-nut?" I ask.

"I forgot the charger," He answers, finally meeting my gaze. "It's on my study desk... and I was going to use a pay phone, but... I, uh...," He trails off, averting his eyes momentarily and laughing quietly as he runs a hand through his thick, dark blond hair before explaining, "I ran out of quarters."

"Sweetie, you do realize how pathetic you sound right now, right?" I tease him and he gives me that charming half smile of his again and a couple moments later we both burst into a fit of giggles.

"So that still doesn't explain why you were so late," I tell him—my tone turning serious again.

"My car was vandalized," He answers flatly.

"What? Ew! How? In Orange County? You've gotta be kidding me!" I'm shocked.

"Tires were slashed. Windshield was broken. Doors were smashed in," He explains.

I'm at a loss for words. So when he used to always joke that the Atwoods have terrible luck, he really wasn't kidding.

"Summer, please," He panics—almost as if he thinks I'm mad at him. "I'm trying. I just...," He replies, drawing a deep breath for comfort.

"Just what?" I ask, now becoming more fearful than anything. It's been a while since I've seen him this flustered, and I don't like it.

"I don't have the money to fix the car. Everything I've been earning has been going to you and Lani."

"How much do you need?" I ask.

"I don't want to burden you or Neil," He answers.

"I'm your wife! You can burden me as much as you want! My money is your money, and I'm sure my dad feels the same way!" I shout back at him, throwing up my hands in frustration.

He swallows hard and then replies, "I ...I don't ..."

"Ryan, please!" I cut him off. "You've gotta stop doing this! You've gotta come to me. Sometimes you can't take everything into your own hands!"

He just nods solemnly so I continue, "So how'd you get home tonight? Cab?"

He sighs and shakes his head _no_.

"Well why the hell not?" I press for an answer.

"I ran out of money," He explains. "And I didn't get paid today."

"Please tell me you didn't walk home, Ryan," I say in disbelief but he nods his head. I can't believe this. With a bad hip and no pain meds today, he walked eight miles to get home. No wonder his limp is so prominent tonight.

"Well why didn't you call me to pick you...," I trail off, remembering that his phone had died and he had no quarters. "Oh," I finish.

"You couldn't have borrowed a quarter from someone?" I ask.

"I did ask a couple of guys. They said they didn't have any. There was nobody else around. I asked one lady to borrow her cell and she said no. By the time I had walked two miles, I couldn't find another payphone."

His expression grows even more somber, and I can tell something is eating away at him emotionally. For a few seconds I swear the only emotion visible in his deep blue eyes is shame. He thinks he let me and Lani down.

"Summer, I'm sorry," He tells me. The look of desperation in his eyes is killing me and my attitude suddenly softens.

"Come 'ere," I drone affectionately, holding my arms out towards him. Poor guy had a terrible day.

He's reluctant at first, but after a few seconds, he leans in towards me and tenderly caresses my left cheek with his hand. Gosh, how is it possible for a hand to feel so rugged and calloused yet so soft and gentle at the same time? He sweeps a tousled strand of hair out of my face and he whispers an "I love you" before drawing me closer and kissing me deeply, and I swear right now my hormones are driving me crazy. I kiss him back passionately and wrap my arms around his taut neck before pulling away just enough to say, "I love you too."

After that we just sit there staring into each others' eyes for a few minutes. I know he has something else he wants to tell me so I patiently wait and admire his beauty. I mentally trace the angular outline of his face and make note of the small crows feet that are beginning to form around his eyes due to immense stress and exhaustion. Everything he goes through is really starting to take a physical toll on him and it breaks my heart.

"So...," He finally breaks the silence again. His demeanor instantly reverts back to that of a sad puppy dog. "It's been a rough day," He continues, averting his eyes again and absentmindedly playing with my hand. "Actually, it's been a rough few weeks and I haven't been completely honest with you."

"Oh no, Ryan. I know that look. What's wrong?"

When he looks up again, his eyes convey a combination of disappointment, guilt, and despair and it scares me.

He looks down again and wraps his arms around his torso, taking a deep breath before answering, "I lost my job at the building company. Three weeks ago. I've been searching for jobs every day for the past three weeks. That's another reason I've been coming home later than usual. I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you."

Well _fuck_. He didn't lie _exactly_. He probably just wasn't ready to tell me until now, but I'm not mad. He's got too much going on for me to be mad, but _fuck_. As if we hadn't already been through enough already... No wonder he's been struggling to pay the damn bills.

"Come 'ere," I summon him again in trademark Summer Roberts-Atwood style. "It's okay. We'll get through this. I promise," I assure him, wrapping him into a tight hug. He lets his body relax into mine and we share each others' warmth and comfort for several minutes.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Summer," He says, gently brushing his right hand up and down my arm and nuzzling my neck. I can feel his heart beating against my chest, and I wish we could stay like this forever. "You and Lani," He continues—his voice thick with emotion. "You both are all I have."

"Well we're not going anywhere," I remind him.

My words are simple, but I know it's exactly what he needs to hear. After all the people that abandoned him in his life, he needs to know that no matter how bad things get, I'll never give up on him.

* * *

><p>I wake up in the middle of the night courtesy of Atwood. Our legs must be tangled under the sheets because as he changes his sleeping position for the one hundredth time tonight, I can feel my leg moving too.<p>

"Ew," I whisper, noticing how sweaty he is. Something's wrong. He usually doesn't sweat during the night.

He groans as I turn my body to face him, and I brush his short, sweaty bangs out of his face. His body seems racked with pain, even in his sleep, and my heart aches for him.

"Chino," I say, nudging his arm. He stirs slightly and lets out another groan so I nudge him again. "Chino, wake up, sweetie."

His long eyelashes slowly flutter open to reveal blue eyes clouded by pain and exhaustion. I reach over to switch on the night lamp and he blinks several times. I then help him distribute his weight onto his good side as he lethargically pushes himself into a sitting position—wincing as he does so.

"Are you okay?" He immediately asks and I can't help but smile. That's so like him. Here I am worried about his health, yet he's here worrying about me. Typical Atwood.

"I'm fine. Just concerned. All your tossing and turning woke me up," I explain.

He frowns and rubs his face with his left palm while setting his right hand tenderly on my knee.

"I'm so sorry," He apologizes. "I didn't mean to wake you up for nothing. I can sleep on the couch. That way you'll sleep better."

"No! Ryan, stop it!" I snap and he immediately flinches and looks up at me with one of his cute, confused kicked puppy expressions.

"I'm sor—," He begins to say, but I quickly cut him off.

"You're sorry. I know. And if you say that one more time, you're going to experience one of my rage black outs. All you do is apologize! You have nothing to be sorry for! Don't you ever think about yourself?" I continue shouting at him in frustration. He just doesn't get it.

He doesn't say anything and instead averts his eyes and tilts his head to the left as if he's in deep thought.

"You need a shower. You're sweating like a horse and you stink," I tease, breaking the tension and he regains eye contact with me—a hilariously dumbfounded look planted on his face.

He begins to get up as if he's actually going to hop into the shower, and I smack him on the arm.

"I'm kidding! I mean you are all sweaty and everything, but you don't stink," I smile at him warmly and wink. He appears to relax and even smiles back. If this indicates small steps in the right direction, I'll take it. Only seconds later, I hear another groan escape from his lips and now I am officially worried.

"Is it your hip?" I ask, noticing the way he shifts his weight a little bit more to his left side.

"Yeah," He sighs. "That and the back of my right thigh. And my calf muscle is throbbing."

"We've gotta get you a re-fill of your meds. Daddy can probably help. Come on," I soothe him. "Let me help you stretch out that leg."

"Have I told you how much I love you, Summer Roberts-Atwood?" He asks me in that husky voice that always sends shivers down my spine. Smiling brightly, he draws my body forward with both hands, kissing me fervently. He then begins a trail of kisses down my neck and shoulder and lifts his head just enough to give me an Eskimo kiss. This is, of course, his way of thanking me, and I'm enjoying every second of it.

"Okay, lover boy. Don't forget I have work in three hours," I giggle. I'm so tempted to pounce on him and tangle my hands through his hair like old times and strip off my panties, but unfortunately we haven't been able to make love for at least a couple of weeks. He's been in too much pain. Instead, I offer him my support and say, "Let me help you lie down on your back."

He leans back on the bed and I massage his hip and thigh as we go through the familiar exercises that he's had to do everyday since the accident. After about twenty minutes, he finally seems comfortable enough to go back to sleep, and I lay next to him and rub his head until his breathing falls into its natural rhythm and he's fast asleep.

Now hopefully I can get a couple more hours of sleep in, although I'm greatly dreading work in the morning. Maybe tomorrow will be the day Ryan finds another job. Maybe things will be okay. Just maybe.

**A/N: Alright, so that's chapter one. If you get a chance, please review! It helps me as a writer and gives me inspiration! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! I told you I'd update quickly if you review. ;) Here's chapter 2! Remember this chapter is Ryan's POV. :)**

**~*~*~*~*~CHAPTER TWO~*~*~*~*~*~**_  
><em>

Pain is the first thing I feel when I wake up. My ass feels like somebody is trying to compress it to the size of a ping pong ball and my right hip and the back of my leg are burning like hell. I'm trying to find a comfortable position on the bed, but nothing I do is helping. _Shit_. I move my right foot and bite down hard on my lower lip. Maybe if I taste blood in my mouth, it'll take my mind off of how shitty my leg feels right now. My toes feel weird too. Kind of numb actually and there's this uncomfortable tingly sensation near my ankle. It feels like hundreds of needles are pricking at it. I try to move and... _fuck_. Okay, my ass is literally killing me. I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut, clenching my fists together the entire time.

Keeping my eyes closed, I move my hand across Summer's side of the bed and sigh. She's not there. That's when I hear the shower running and glance over at the alarm clock next to our bed. It's eight in the morning. She's getting ready for work.

Suddenly I feel insecure remembering the conversation we had last night and reality sets in. I finally told her I lost my job three weeks ago. My boss told me it was nothing personal—that I'm not the only person who was being laid off that day. With the ongoing recession they just couldn't afford to keep paying so many employees, but I know better. It's the story of my fucking life. I'm never good enough. I've never been wanted. If it was nothing personal, then why the fuck does it hurt so much? Maybe 'cause I worked my ass off for that company. I gave them my all and I was never a day late, even the days my hip was killing me. In fact, I'd even do extra work for them almost every day. I'd get the executives and architects their coffee and do whatever errands they asked me to run. I did everything I was ever asked to do! Why is that never enough?

They told me I was one of their brightest guys. They'd promised me a future. They'd said when I finally finish my architectural degree, that this job will look great on my resume. So then why the hell was I laid off? What's with all the fucking empty promises? Everybody always gives me empty promises. Fucking Dawn. Trey. Hell everybody but Summer. And why can't I stop thinking about this? All this frustration is making my head hurt. No matter how hard I try, I get kicked to the curb so what's the fucking point?

Summer walks out of our bathroom with a towel wrapped around her petite waist, and suddenly I remember why I get up in the morning. At this point, it's for Summer and Lani. Just the sight of my beautiful wife makes me forget about the excruciating pain I am in—even if it's only for a few seconds.

"Morning sleepy head," She says, smiling at me with that radiant smile that makes me feel so... appreciated. Her beauty and innocence reminds me of an angel. She's my angel. If heaven exists, she's definitely heaven sent.

"Hey," I greet her. My voice sounds gruffer than I want it to, and I realize how dry my throat is. I can really use a glass of water. That's when I realize one is already sitting on the dresser. She must notice me looking at it because she removes it from the dresser and brings it to me. She never ceases to amaze me.

"I kind of figured you'd be dehydrated so I got you a glass of water. I mean you _did_ pretty much sweat off enough liquid last night to fill a swimming pool."

I give her an appreciative smile and accept the cold glass of water from her hands. After taking a sip, I thank her and she slips off her towel, revealing her perfect figure.

"Now who's enjoying the view?" She teases me, removing the towel from her waist and reaching into her side of the closet for her work clothes. I can't hold back a smile. Summer always makes me smile. I'd be lost without her.

"Guilty as charged," I reply, struggling to sit up. I try to maintain my smile, though I wouldn't be surprised if it's coming off as more of a grimace considering the needle throbbing pain I just felt in my hip and lower back when moving my right leg. "But I think you're bending the rules a bit. It's no fair when a beautiful woman seduces a helpless cripple while he's stuck in bed," I say, half-jokingly and half-seriously. She's evoking so many feelings in me right now just by standing in front of me naked.

"Atwood's trying to win the sympathy vote I see," She jokes, putting on her bra. "You're not a true cripple, sweetie. If you were, you'd have a permanent handicap parking permit," She adds, winking at me with a hint of mischief etched in her soft features.

"Touché," I answer. God this sexy brunette is something else.

She slips on a knee high black skirt and a turquoise long sleeve blouse and then walks over towards our bed, swaying her hips seductively with every step. Her hair and make up is so perfect and elegantly done, and I swallow hard. How does she still manage to make me feel like that stupid little boy who used to nervously spit out Trey's ridiculous pick up lines when talking to girls?

"You look gorgeous this morning," I tell her. God I'm an idiot. Is that the best I can do?

"And you look terrible," She replies bluntly. _Ouch_. That's something I always loved about Summer though. At least she's always honest. She must notice my reaction because she quickly adds, "Kidding!" She then sticks her tongue out at me—youthfulness emanating from her large, hazelnut brown eyes. I always get lost in those eyes.

"Summer Roberts-Atwood. You're doing wonders for my ego right now," I deadpan, suddenly self-conscious. Absentmindedly, I run a hand through my hair, hoping to make it a little less messy.

"Your hair's fine, silly. It's the bags under your eyes I'm worried about," She explains. _Worried_. There goes that word again. She uses it a lot lately. I hate that I make her worry. All I want to do is make her happy.

"You don't have to worry about me, Summer. I'll be fine," I placate her. After all, I'm not a quitter. I've never been. I'll always do what it takes to fight for this family.

"I know, but you're going through so much right now, Ryan. I need you to know that we're in this together. You're not alone," She tells me lovingly. Her voice alone is so soothing. It's like she can read my mind.

"Back to the whole sleep thing though... it just looks like you didn't get the quality sleep last night that you needed. You know, I read in Allure magazine that we need at least two hours of deep sleep and an hour and a half of REM sleep per night. If you don't sleep properly, your body can't heal. We've gotta get you your pain meds ASAP," She finishes.

I nod slowly, taking a deep breath and trying to relax myself. The pain I'm feeling at the moment is unrelenting. She must notice because she frowns and sits down, reaching for my right hip and gently massaging it with both hands. I smile at her gratefully and when she smiles back, I see the love in her eyes. It's still amazing how we can both convey so much to each other without words.

Before I even ask she tells me, "I called my dad this morning. He's going to drop by and examine your hip sometime today. I figured it would save the money of having to go to the doctor again. I mean... your new insurance plan doesn't cover those kinds of visits."

"Thanks," I say, pulling her petite body towards mine and kissing her tenderly on the nose. I always loved her nose. It's such a cute, little nose. Thankfully Lani seems to have inherited her nose and not mine.

"You're so perfect," I murmur, stroking Summer's soft hair. It smells like strawberries. I love strawberries. My hand moves down to her perfectly shaped chin, and I caress her baby soft skin with my thumb—just admiring every delicate feature on her flawless face. Her eyes, smile, and freckles are my favorite.

"You are too," She humors me. I smirk and she smacks me in the arm. "What? It's true! Not a day goes by that I think you're not perfect."

"You basically told me this morning that I look like shit, and I'm supposed to believe that?" I continue laughing. She's gotta be humoring me. I mean I'm just a blue collar guy from Chino and she's a rich, beautiful girl from Newport Beach.

"I didn't mean it like that!" She frowns. "And just because you have bags under those mysterious ocean blue eyes of yours, doesn't mean you're not perfect," she explains herself.

"Mysterious ocean blue eyes, huh? You know, Roberts, we've been together for six years now and I think that's the first time you've ever told me that," I blush.

"Well it's true! And I love your nose! And your lips and your biceps and... well you're really hot, Atwood! I'm sorry if I don't tell you enough," She says, flashing me a brilliant smile.

I duck my head bashfully and when I look up again, I realize I'm still blushing.

"So what's your plan for today?" She changes the subject. I push myself out of bed and immediately sit back down again, fighting off a wave of dizziness. Fuck. I'm in so much pain at the moment that it's hard to breathe. Next thing I know, Summer is by my side helping me back up.

"Are you going to be alright? Should I stay home today?" She asks thoughtfully.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

I hobble slowly into the bathroom, turn the sink on, and splash cold water on my face.

"You're not going out today, are you?" She asks.

"Do I have a choice, Summer? I've gotta go job hunting..."

"What you _need_ is rest and a doctor." She tips her head to one side and plants a hand firmly on her hip. I hate when she's annoyed with me.

"Do we have to do this right now?" I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut for a few seconds and pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Yes, we have to do this right now! You already filed for unemployment, right?"

"Yeah, I did. I did the very same day I lost my job," I answer, meeting her gaze. Of course I filed for unemployment...

"Well then can't you take a break?"

"It's not like we've gotten the unemployment benefits yet, and even when we do... it won't be enough money to support us. You know that..."

"I don't care! What good is getting a job if you're not well enough to work?" She retorts.

"You said it yourself. Bum hip or not—I'm not a true cripple. I can work." I'm getting a bit agitated now. The numbness in my right foot isn't helping either.

"You know what? Do what you want. I can't deal with this right now," She snaps at me. Shit. I hate early morning arguments.

"Summer...," I say—my mood dampening by the second.

"No, Ryan! I'm fed up with your stubbornness. I need to get Lani ready for day care."

"I'll stay home," I say quietly.

"You mean it?" She asks, visibly calming down. I nod.

"Yeah, I'll stay home. Rest. Wait for your dad to examine me. And I can take care of Lani today. The last thing we need to do is spend more money on day care."

"Thanks Ryan," she hugs me and I hold her close—not wanting her to pull away. Inevitably she does pull away after a couple of minutes and pecks me on the lips before wishing me luck with the day, saying bye to Lani, and heading off to work.

* * *

><p>"How's my little angel doing?" I greet my daughter, stepping into her bedroom. She's already dressed—wearing jeans and a pink shirt with a character I recognize as Jasmine from Aladdin imprinted across the front. It'd be messed up if I didn't recognize these characters by now. Lani begs me to watch these movies with her practically every night.<p>

"Daddy!" She beams and as she moves towards me, I sweep her up into my arms. A flash of pain weakens my body momentarily while she wraps her arms around my torso and luckily her bed is nearby because I've really gotta sit down if I'm going to keep holding her. It pains me to admit this, but I can barely walk this morning. I might need to use the cane today. It's been a couple years since I needed it too. Right when I need my health the most, it's being taken away from me.

"I missed you!" She pouts. "You wasn't home for dinner wast night."

Kissing the top of her head I say, "Daddy missed you too. I was bad. I should have been there."

"Bad Daddy!" She giggles and hits my arm, eliciting a fit of laughter from me. She _is_ her mother's daughter.

"Hey, what did Daddy say about hitting?" I scold her.

"Hitting is bad. It hurts people," She answers correctly.

"That's right. So if you want to stay a little angel, you need to promise to stop hitting."

"I pwomise," she says. "I wanna stay a wittle angel."

When I look into her large blue eyes, I see innocence and adoration. When she came into my life, it was the first time I felt truly needed. The truth is, she inspires me every day to keep going. I want to make her proud. I want to give her everything I never had.

"Come on, munchkin. It's time to go downstairs."

"Okay," She agrees easily and when I stand up, she clings to my left leg.

"I've gotta walk you know," I chuckle. "I can't walk if you're squeezing the life out of my leg."

She lets go and follows behind me. By the time we reach the stairs she asks, "Why are you walking so funny?"

I sigh—not really sure what to tell her. "Daddy's got a bad leg," I answer. In the past I'm sure my limp hasn't been that noticeable to her. It hasn't been this bad since the months following the motorcycle crash and she was barely even old enough to talk then. Right now I can barely drag my right leg in front of me. I wish she didn't have to see me like this.

"Oh," She frowns. "Will it get better?"

"I sure hope so."

I open the safety gate and allow her to walk down the stairs.

"Careful Lani! Slow down. I don't want you getting hurt," I caution her as I stagger down the stairs behind her. Suddenly I'm thankful for the safety handrails situated on each side of the staircase. I doubt I'd be able to walk down without falling today if they weren't there. Summer was right. There's no way I can go job hunting in this condition.

By the time I finally catch up with Lani at the bottom of the stairwell, I'm breathing heavily. I really hope Neil comes early. I unlock the bottom safety gate and Lani runs into the kitchen.

"You hungry?" I ask, slowly following her and opening the refrigerator door to check out what we have left. I make a note to myself that we're running out of milk and orange juice.

"Yes! I want pancakes! Blueberry!" She exclaims with a wide grin on her cherubic face.

Almost methodically, I reach into the cabinets for the ingredients and start mixing up the batter. Half an hour later, she's contently eating a large blueberry pancake and some scrambled eggs. She's got quite the appetite for a four-year-old.

"Where's _your_ pancake, Daddy?" She asks, looking up at me curiously. I'm not really hungry. Pain in a man's hip, leg, and ass will do that to you. Besides, we've gotta save money. There's no point in me eating more than I have to.

"Daddy already ate," I lie. It's a white lie. No big deal.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, I hear the doorbell ring. It must be Neil. Lani's eyes are glued to the TV set, which tends to happen every time Barney is on. Personally I don't get what kids see in the purple dinosaur, but if it makes her happy, I'm happy.<p>

I painfully make my way to the door and take a quick peek through the peephole to find that I'd guessed right.

"Hey Neil," I greet him, letting him into the house.

"It's good to see you, Ryan. How have you been?"

That's a loaded question, and I'm not sure how to answer it. Even though we bonded after my accident, things haven't always been peachy with Neil and I think part of me will always be cautious around him. I've always felt like I had to prove to him that I was good enough to marry his daughter. He wasn't even at our wedding. I know things between us are different now, but I still don't want to come across as weak or anything like that around him. At the same time, he's a doctor and I really need something to relieve the excruciating pain I'm in so I decide that in this case it'll probably be best if I tell him the truth.

"Honestly, I've been better, but I'll live. How are things with the case going?"

"I'm not sure. Last week I would have told you that everything seems to be going smoothly and that the case seems to be wrapping up nicely in my favor," He answers, knitting his eyebrows into a worried expression. He lets out a frustrated breath and adds, "This week, I'm not so sure."

I'm shocked that he's being this open and honest with me.

"Why? What happened," I ask nervously. Neil's fate directly effects Summer and Lani since he's helping us pay the mortgage for the house and sends money every month to help me support them. If something happens to his medical practice, we may not be able to keep the house unless for once things work out and I get another job soon. As it is now, I'm just hoping to get relief from the pain so that I can still keep my job at The Lighthouse.

"Oh, you know how politics go... They think they've found some new evidence to incriminate me and now the plaintiff has the upper hand," He confides in me.

I really don't know much about the case. I just know that he's being sued for negligence and that one of his patients died. Other than that, I know very little and out of respect for Summer and her dad, I haven't pressed for more information.

"I'm really sorry to hear that. I'm here if you need moral support," I reply.

I know it's probably a lame response, but I don't know what else to say. It sucks what he's going through. It sucks even more if he really did accidentally kill one of his patients. Hell that sucks for him having to live with what he did—if he did it that is, and generally the whole situation sucks for the patient's family whether he did it or not, but at the moment I feel like it's not my place to ask more questions about it so I drop the subject.

"I appreciate that, son," He says, which definitely grabs my attention. The only person who has ever called me _son_ was a man by the name of Raymond Johnson. He'd been the first person to give me a job after I'd turned eighteen. There aren't many guys like that who are willing to give a guy with no high school diploma and a tarnished record a decent job, but he always used to tell me that he saw good in me. He never treated me like damaged goods. He never treated me like a criminal and that was the first time someone believed in me.

He's probably one of the only people I ever opened up to about my past. He knew the car theft wasn't my fault. My fucking brother dragged me along and I was scared and confused, but I didn't want to do it. I'd served several months in juvie for that shit and when I was released, I'd been sent to a group home. I'd practically been their slave. I was made to cook for them, clean for them, and do manual labor and they wouldn't allow me to attend school like all the other kids. They'd often starve me and isolate me from the other kids too. I tried to run away once, but I was caught and sent back and that's when the beatings started. I still choke up sometimes remembering it all.

Raymond would tell me that what happened to me in the group home and in juvie wasn't my fault. He'd tell me that it's not my fault my mom never got help for her substance abuse problems—that it's not my fault she abandoned me. He'd helped me get a GED and convinced me that I'm smart enough to go to college. After a couple years of hard work, I'd saved up enough money and he'd even helped me get a government grant and that's when I'd started attending Los Angeles City College. That's when I'd met Summer. I owed this man so much. He gave me hope and then one night I got a phone call from his wife telling me he'd had a heart attack and didn't make it. I'll never forget that night. It was one of the worst nights of my life.

"Are you alright?" Neil asks. I must have been really deep in thought to forget he's been standing here in front of me this entire time.

I let out a deep breath I didn't realize I was holding and answer,"Yeah. I'm fine. I just... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to zone out like that."

"It's not a problem. You just seemed to be out of it for a minute there. Here, let me help you sit down. You seem to be in pain," He offers.

"No, it's okay. I'm good," I assure him. For the first time I feel like Neil may be beginning to genuinely see me for _me_and care for me—not because of Summer or because I'm the father of his grandchild, but rather because he really wants to. I have to admit it feels good. I can't get my hopes up too high, of course, but it'd be nice to have someone looking out for me again the way Raymond did.

"Where's that gorgeous granddaughter of mine?" Neil asks—grinning from ear to ear.

"She's in the living room watching Barney," I answer, offering him a small smile of my own. "Can I get you anything? A glass of water? Juice? I'd offer you wine, but we don't have alcohol in the house," I laugh lightly.

"No, you don't have to. Really I'm here for you. Let me go see my granddaughter for a little bit and then I'm going to examine that hip of yours. Summer tells me you've been in a lot of pain and by the way you've been walking today, I see she wasn't exaggerating."

"Thanks," I tell him. "Where do you want to examine me?"

"Here is fine. I have some medical supplies in the trunk of the car that I need to get and then we'll be good to go."

* * *

><p>"So what's wrong with me?" I ask after Neil has finished the examination.<p>

"Well, it's not looking good," He replies sympathetically. "It appears to be a pretty bad case of sciatica. The damage done to your sciatic nerve in the accident never recovered properly and now you're feeling the effects."

"But... it's been... it's been three years. I don't get it," I panic. If my condition is serious I can't work. If I can't work, I can't support our family. "Why now?"

"It's a fairly common occurrence for people who have had hip replacement surgeries, Ryan. You've been overdoing yourself. You've gotta slow down some."

"What do I do now?"

"I can call up one of my friends who specializes in these kinds of things. He's out of town this week, but next week he can give you a more thorough evaluation. In the mean time, I know you work at The Lighthouse on Saturday and Sunday. I can give you a cortisone injection on Friday. Maybe that way you can at least go to work. I had a feeling sciatica was the problem so I brought Apo-Cyclobenzaprine with me. It's a strong muscle relaxant," He explains, handing me a prescription bottle. "Take two tablets every six hours with a snack."

"Thanks Neil," I nod gratefully.

"This is stronger than the medications you've been taking the past couple of years so keep that in mind. You're going to be very drowsy," He warns me. At this point I don't care. I need some sort of relief or I'll go insane.

"Okay," I nod again. He pats me on the knee and then heads out.

* * *

><p>Shortly after Neil leaves, I decide that it'd be best if I wait until after dinner to take the medication since it's going to make me drowsy. I notice it's already six in the evening and Summer still isn't home so I give her a call. She picks up on the first ring and tells me that she got caught up at work and will be home soon.<p>

An hour passes and dinner is finally finished, but Summer's still not home. Maybe she's giving me a taste of my own medicine. Patience lately hasn't really been one of by strong suits. That's when she calls and tells me she ran into an old friend and won't be home until nine. I try not to feel disappointed when she tells me this, but I really need her right now. I want her to enjoy herself though. She deserves a break, after all—so I dismiss these unreasonable thoughts and focus all attention on my daughter.

"Lani! Dinner time!" I announce. She quickly scrambles from her spot in the living room where she's played with barbies for the past hour and rushes into the kitchen.

"Wummy, wummy, wwwummy in my tummy tummy tttttummy!" She sings and giggles, which makes me smile. "It smells good, Daddy!"

"I hope it tastes good too, princess," I reply, handing her a plate of vegetable lasagna.

"Where's mommy?"

"Mommy went out with a friend. She'll be back tonight."

"Okay," She says softly, stuffing her mouth with garlic bread. She's quiet just like me. Sometimes I wonder how much she'll change when she gets older. I know I'll worry like crazy when she hits her teenage years. If I had it my way she wouldn't date until she's forty. I hope I'll be a good father to her. I try as hard as I can, but I never had a true parental figure to look up to other than Raymond so this is still all new to me.

"Daddy, what are you thinking about?" She interrupts my reverie.

"How do you know I was thinking about something?"

"Becwause when you think you make that weally sewious face that you have now. Mommy calls it bwooding."

I have to chuckle at that. My kid knows me so well. "I was thinking about how proud I am of you, and how I hope I'll be a good daddy to you even when you grow up."

"Oh." She smiles. "I think you're the **best-**est-est-est-est-est daddy anyone could ever have." She probably doesn't realize it, but I'm fighting to hold back tears.

"Can you tell me a story?" She asks. Wow. Well, I've never been good with words, but I'm practically incapable of turning down my little girl. I just hope whatever story I tell doesn't suck _too_ much.

"Well one day there was this poor little boy," I begin and then draw in a deep breath. "He had nothing. No family. No hope."

"Is this one of those weally sad stowies?" She furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

"No! No, I mean... it has a happy ending," I chuckle. "I promise."

"Good! I like happy endings. So what happens next?" She asks, leaning forward in her chair with a look of excitement.

"So this little boy grew up. Things always went bad for him, but one day he found someone who believed in him," I continue, struggling to keep my emotions in check as the memories of my childhood—or lack thereof—hit me all at once.

"What does it mean to believe in someone, Daddy?" Lani asks attentively.

"It means...," I begin, but then take another deep breath and blink back a few tears that I hope she doesn't notice. "Well how about I give you an example."

"Okay," She nods eagerly.

"I believe in you. It means... it means no matter what you do, I see the good in you. I know that you're good enough. Whatever you want to be someday—it can come true. You just have to work hard at it. And if it doesn't, then daddy still wouldn't think any less of you. He knows you'd find something else that you're good at."

"Oh! Oh! I want to be a ballerina!" She smiles brightly.

"I know, sweetheart, and someday soon I'm going to get you signed up for lessons."

"You're the best!" She coos with delight and I can't stop the grin that spreads across my face. "So what happens next in the stowy?"

"Well for the first time in his life, the boy had hope and because of it, he got to go to school."

"Wow! I go to school next year!" She exclaims.

"You sure do," I smile warmly at her.

"So he goes to school and then what?" She asks impatiently.

"He met a beautiful princess and loving her saved him," I continue the story, leaving out the part about what she was saving me from.

After Raymond died, I'd fallen into a state of depression. I'd been dating Summer for a year at that point, but without her, I don't know how I would have pulled myself together. The one person who'd believed in me and who loved me unconditionally—the only father figure I'd ever known—died. It felt as if whenever something good would come into my life, it'd be taken away—just like that. And while I know Raymond hadn't abandoned me, at the time I couldn't help but feel that way, but Summer was always there to remind me that I wasn't alone.

When I'd first met her, I never thought she'd be the type of girl I could fall for. She was a party girl and a social butterfly and I was a loner. She loved shopping while I could never fathom spending that much money. She was into materialistic things like clothes, make-up, and jewelry while I couldn't care less how I looked as long as I was clean and presentable. She loved pop music and I was into old rock, classical, and some rap. She liked chick flicks and I preferred the movies shown on the Turner Classic Movie channel. Probably the only thing we had in common at the time was the fact that we both enjoyed working out to relieve stress. Yet somehow this girl—this vibrant, bubbly girl got through to me and broke down my defenses when no other girl had been able to do that, and over the course of time, she gradually transformed from that spoiled, shallow girl to the strong, caring woman that I love. I learned that we did indeed have some things in common. Her mother had abandoned her and she'd had a stepmom with substance abuse problems. She'd been depressed in high school and even overcame an eating disorder, but she's come so far and she's grown so much. I love her. She completes me.

"Daddy...," Lani wines. "You're bwooding again instead of telling the story!"

Her comment elicits laughter out of me. How was I blessed with such a sweet kid?

"So what happened next is, the boy married the beautiful princess and they gave birth to a beautiful angel together."

"Like me!" She beams.

"Yep! Just like you! And so for the first time in the sad boy's life, he had a family and hope. Their little family went through hard times, but in the end, they always found a way to stick together and they lived happily ever after," I finish. Maybe someday she'll realize the little boy in this story was me.

"Yay! I told you I like happy endings, Daddy!" She exclaims, shoving another forkful of lasagna into her mouth and again I'm reminded that no matter how hard life gets, as long as I have my family, everything will be okay.

* * *

><p>After dinner, I finally take the meds and lie down in the living room, setting my laptop in front of me. The goal is to apply to as many jobs online as possible. I figured if I can't go out physically looking for jobs, at least I can still do it online and it never hurts to submit your resume to multiple companies. I feel two tiny hands nudging my arm and realize that Lani has climbed into my lap.<p>

"What are you doing, Daddy?" She asks—her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Applying for jobs, my little angel," I reply, drawing her closer to me and kissing her cheek with all the love I can muster. She curls up on top of me, and I hold her in my free arm while continuing to submit as many applications as I can. After about an hour, the pain in my leg hasn't subsided as much as I hoped it would, but I'm so drowsy that I can barely keep my eye lids open. While keeping my position on the couch, I gingerly set the laptop down on the floor and then kiss Lani's forehead. By the time Summer comes home, we're both fast asleep.

**A/N: As always, if you review and give me feed back, I'll probably get more inspired and update sooner. As it is now, life is very stressful, but I'm in love with hurt, struggling daddy!Ryan and mama!Summer and I enjoy writing this so I hope you're enjoying it. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: ** Here is Ch. 3 guys. **For those of you who want to know if Sandy, Seth, or other characters are eventually in this story, the answer is YES.** One of our favorite characters (at least one of mine) will be introduced in Ch. 4 and then in Ch. 5 about 4 more characters from the show will be introduced. I've almost completely finished writing this fic. In total, it turned out to be 7 chapters. :-) Stick with me please. The next couple chapters are a bit depressing, but I PROMISE this story becomes touching and has a happy ending. As always, thanks to the lovely beachtree for proof reading this and please leave a review and give me feedback if you get a chance! :D

**~*~*~*~*~CHAPTER THREE~*~*~*~*~**

_She's all laid up in bed with a broken heart,_

**3 Months Later**

I trace my fingers along my husband's face in the photo I've been staring at for the past five minutes, and my eyes well up with tears. How did life get so hard? Everything just sucks right now, and considering I'm usually an optimistic person, that's saying a lot.

I hear the front door open and close followed by the now familiar sound of uneven and heavy footsteps, and I know Chino's home.

Instead of walking downstairs to the living room to greet him, I stay in the bedroom wiping the tears from my eyes and continuing to look at the photo in front of me.

I took the photo a few months ago. Actually it was the night I ran into an old high school friend of mine—Taylor Townsend. She was in town and strolling through South Coast Plaza, where I work, and we happened to bump into each other. I'd missed dinner with my family that night because Taylor treated me to a skinny latte at Starbucks and we shared an apple cinnamon muffin while reminiscing about our days at Harbor together. At the time, I needed the short escape. I know Chino and Lani needed me, but I had to release some stress and this seemed like a great way to do it.

When I got home, I found Chino sprawled out on the couch with Lani curled up next to him. His arms were wrapped around her, and her little head rested on his strong chest. They were both out like a light, and it was so adorable that I snapped a picture of it. I still haven't shown him the picture. Actually, we haven't talked much in depth about anything lately. I mean we talk, but it seems like he's always dodging the important issues and it's really damn frustrating.

It's been hard. Really _fucking_ hard. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. I thought things were tough a few months ago, but now I'd do anything to have things go back to the way they were even then.

_And we don't know how,  
>How we got in to this mad situation,<br>Only doing things out of frustration  
>Trying to make it work but man these times are hard,<em>

Ryan limps into the bedroom, and I quickly put the photo away and wipe the tears from my eyes.

Staggering awkwardly towards where I'm sitting on the bed, he drops his cane on the floor and collapses next to me, groaning in agony. His movements have become so slow and labored that it's almost painful to watch. That's how unsteady he currently is on his feet. He leans his body towards me as if he's going to kiss me, but then whimpers and bites down hard on his bottom lip. Finally, he gives me a quick peck on the mouth before removing his jacket and kicking off his shoes.

"No luck today, huh?" I ask, noticing how overwhelmed he looks. He just shrugs his shoulders and sighs as if he's annoyed by the question. Go figure. I get a lot of that from Atwood lately.

"Where's our daughter?" He changes the subject. He does that a lot lately too.

"At day care," I answer.

"What the fuck, Summer? Why?" He snaps, throwing his hands up in frustration. "We don't have the money for day care!"

"Calm down, okay! I needed a break! I'm sorry!" I shoot back.

"Damnit, Summer! You couldn't take care of her today? You had the day off! Every day that you're at work I take care of her!"

"God Ryan, take a fucking chill pill!"

"Why? I bust my ass every day trying to find somebody who will hire a... cripple...," He trails off and does that thing where his body gets all tense, and he looks away—staring into space with that classic Atwood wounded expression as if he's at war with himself and seriously wishing he could take back something he just said. He's scared of being thought of as a cripple. I wish he didn't feel this way. It's not like I'd ever think any less of him even if he never walked normally again. Plus, I'm pretty sure he'll get better eventually.

"Look...I...," He mumbles, turning his head back in my direction. "It's just..."

He opens his mouth to talk again, but quickly shuts it as if he's still figuring out how to express whatever is on his mind.

Just as I'm about to say something, frustration flickers in his eyes and his tone becomes harsh with irritation again as he tells me, "The point is, I still find time to take care of Alana every day despite all the effort I put into looking for jobs, and you seem to think that because you still have a job, you can spend the little money we do have on whatever suits you!"

I wince as he says this. Even if it's mostly just the stress and pain talking for him, it still hurts.

"That's not true, and you know it! And I wish you would stop referring to yourself as a cripple. I don't see you that way." Averting my eyes, I pause for a few seconds before adding softly, "Things will work out. You'll see."

He has no idea that I spent the majority of the day so far researching affordable, alternative treatments for patients with severe sciatica. Okay, so I didn't find any, but I wasn't thinking about myself. I was thinking about him.

"It's not that easy. Nothing is ever easy," he croaks and if I didn't know any better, I'd think he's about to hyperventilate. That's how tightly wound he is right now. He looks right into my eyes—his voice faltering with emotion as he says, "Summer, I can't even walk without a cane." He draws in another deep breath and adds, "I haven't been able to walk on my own for at least two months now. You know that. Not only that, I can't sit for more than half an hour without excruciating pain. I can't even think straight half the time. That's how much it fucking hurts."

For a brief moment he stares down at the floor as if in deep thought before making eye contact with me again. "Whoever is hiring will notice all this eventually so it's not like I can do a sedentary job efficiently anymore either," He adds dejectedly, slumping his shoulders.

"But we can fight this," I encourage him. "I did some research today and also my dad can..."

"Your dad can what, Summer? His medical license is temporarily suspended. He lost a ton of money after losing the malpractice case and he lost even more money to bad investments. And did you forget that he's in the middle of a nasty divorce? What exactly can he do for me right now?"

I want to protest, but I know he's right. Daddy's in a bad place right now and he's not really able to help us, and I'm worried sick about him too.

"But we've gotta try, Chino. Maybe I can pay for you to have a doctor's appointment. Maybe I can help you buy the medication you need."

"Have you forgotten that the only medication that's worked on me so far costs $600 per month? And at this point, to actually recover enough to work a normal job, I'd need physical therapy again and you and I both know my health insurance doesn't cover either of those costs. Either way you cut it, with no job and no income, my condition is not going to get better. That means that for now, whether you want to accept it or not... I'm a...," He trails off and his blue eyes become unfocused as he swallows hard and mumbles the word "cripple" again so quietly that it's a wonder I even heard him.

I can feel tears threatening to fall at any moment. Chino just knocked down every attempt I've made to make his life better and all my research seems to be for nothing. I guess I was being delusional. He must notice I'm upset though because he takes a deep breath and his expression softens, and next thing I know, he's pulling me into a warm hug.

"I'm so sorry," He whispers soothingly, removing a loose strand of hair from my face. He caresses my cheek with his calloused thumb and gently adds, "Please don't cry, Summer. I'm so sorry. God I'm such an ass."

"Atwood, it's okay. Don't worry about it," I assure him. "You're in a lot of pain and you're stressed out. I understand."

"That's not an excuse. You don't deserve my attitude," He sighs, burying his face in his hands.

Lately when I look into his eyes, all I see is guilt and sadness and it kills me.

"You don't have to be afraid." As I say this, he quickly looks up—furrowing his eyebrows, and his eyes flash with an emotion I don't recognize.

"I'm not afraid," He responds evenly.

"Lani and I... we're not going anywhere. We're not going to leave you."

"I said I'm not afraid, Summer. Drop it," He repeats stoically though his eyes tell a different story.

"But Ryan...it's okay to..."

"I said drop it!" He snaps causing me to recoil slightly. If he's going to deny what's bothering him, for now I guess I have no choice but to let it go.

"Have you eaten?" I change the subject though I pretty much already know the answer.

"No," He answers automatically, letting out a tired breath.

"Let me fix you a sandwich. You have to eat, Chino."

He shakes his head as if he's about to protest, so I add, "I'm not taking no for an answer. And don't give me that bull about how you're saving money so that Lani and I can eat. My job with Chanel makes enough money for the three of us to eat. Things will be okay."

A few minutes later, I return with a turkey sandwich, a glass of water, and a small bowl of chips and set it in front of him. He leaves the chips, but finishes the glass of water and the sandwich before pushing the tray away. I'm relieved that he ate something though because the poor guy barely has an appetite anymore. Not only has he been very down lately, but the constant pain he's been dealing with sometimes makes him nauseous.

"Aren't you going to eat the chips?"

"Summer...," He pleads with those puppy dog eyes that make me melt. "Leave them for Lani," He suggests. I nod and sit back down on the bed and begin massaging his hip and thigh in a circular motion.

"Mmm, hurts," He grumbles.

"You're such a big baby," I tease. "Come 'ere, Grumpy Bear."

"Grumpy Bear?" He quirks an eyebrow—a dumbfounded expression planted on his adorable face and it cracks me the hell up.

"Yeah, from the Care Bears. You know, Lani watches that show all the time."

"You think I'm grumpy?" He smirks.

"Just go with it, Atwood!"

"Oh, I'll show you grumpy," He growls and rolls on top of me seeming to temporarily forget his pain. God he's hot when he growls. I want to make love to him so badly right now, but I know it's just not gonna happen. We haven't had sex in months.

I decide that I might as well try though, and I pull him into a sensual kiss.

"And I'll show you sassy," I purr suggestively, but as quickly as our fun begins, it comes to an abrupt end as he whimpers loudly—his entire lower right side throbbing painfully. He's shaking, and I try to steady him.

As he lies down flat on his back, I notice how sweaty, pale, and uncomfortable he looks. He's lost so much weight these past couple of months, and at this point, I'm beyond worried. I'm terrified. The last time he looked this run down and sickly was in the months following the accident.

"Thanks," He whispers hoarsely.

"You're looking a little thin, Atwood. If you keep this up, I'm going to have to force feed you," I joke, beginning to massage him again. Of course by _a __little_ thin I really mean _a __lot_ thin, but I don't need to say that out loud.

"At this point, I don't care if I'm hooked up to a feeding tube and sedated if it means I'm pain free and get to sleep," He mutters.

"Are you serious?"

"No. Just tired," He answers—his voice laced with pain.

"Is the massage helping at least?" I ask, hopeful.

He frowns and shakes his head, "No, not really, but... thanks for trying."

I swear I'm feeling emotional again. I wish there was something I could do to make him feel at least a little bit better.

"It's hard, but we'll get through it," I comfort him, now stroking his thick dark blond hair. It's grown quite a bit the past couple of months.

"You need a haircut," I point out.

"Yeah?" He gives me a small smile—though it doesn't reach his eyes. "I can try to cut it myself, but I won't be paying any barbers anytime soon."

"Oh, hell no! Uh uh. There is _no_ way I'm going to walk around with you if your hair ends up looking like Conan O'Brien's."

"You don't think I could pull off that look?" He chuckles though if I'm being honest, the way he contorts his face seems more like a grimace.

"I think you can pull off a lot of looks and that is not one of them," I answer honestly.

"Mmm, that feels good," He gives me a lazy smile as I continue to rub his head. It's about damn time I do something useful.

I smile back and continue rubbing his head until he finally drifts off to some much needed sleep. It may only be four in the afternoon, but at this point, he needs all the sleep he can get.

* * *

><p><em>And we don't know how,<br>How we got into this mess  
>is it god's test,<br>Someone help us 'cause we're doing our best,_

_Trying to make it work but man these times are hard,_

"Daddy!" Lani exclaims, climbing on top of me in bed. An all too familiar sharp pain suddenly shoots from my ass to the back of my leg and it hurts so much that for a few seconds I black out and don't even hear a word my daughter is saying.

"Daddy! Why are you ignorwing me tonight?" She sulks.

I blink several times trying to regain my vision and I hope my smile is convincing when I tell her, "Daddy's not ignoring you, princess. He's just very tired."

"You're always tired though," She frowns.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry," I tell her honestly, managing to get a quick glimpse at the alarm clock. I can't believe it's already nine at night. I feel like another day is wasted. To top it all off, I've been sleeping for hours, and I still feel like a truck ran over me. Fucking life.

"Why is your mouth bweeding? Are you okay?" My daughter's curious voice pulls me out of my light brooding session.

So that must be why my mouth tastes like metal. I touch the sore spot and when I pull my hand away, I notice a few drops of blood on my fingers. I must have bitten down on my lip so hard that it started bleeding.

"Daddy's fine," I assure her with a small smile. "I just bit down too hard on my lip—that's all."

"Oh," She replies. It seems she's accepted my answer because she quickly changes the subject.

"I made a new fwiend in day care today, Daddy! She said she's a ballerina! When can I be a ballerina?"

"You already are a ballerina," I answer, kissing the crown of her head.

"Weally?" Her bright blue eyes widen with excitement and the wide grin that spreads slowly across her face at the realization of what I just said makes me happy I chose my words carefully.

"Yes. You're my little ballerina." I begin tickling her tummy, and she squirms away from my touch—giggling.

"But I thought I was your wittle angel?" She quirks an eyebrow and tilts her head in confusion.

"You are," I smile. "You're my little angel ballerina."

"You pwomise?" She asks me.

I know that realistically there's no way I can afford to put her in ballet classes right now. We've already missed the last three mortgage payments. Then there's the light bill, water bill, phone bill, and of course food. Then there's my student loans, which will just have to stay on hold since survival at the moment takes priority number one. Cable and internet was of course cut off a couple of months ago. But the last thing I'd want is for my daughter's innocence to be taken away by the cold reality of this harsh world. Surely I know life fucking sucks, but she doesn't need to know that.

"I promise. You'll always be my little angel ballerina."

"Yay! And you'll always be the best-est daddy ever!" She bounces on top of my stomach, triggering another jolt of pain that extends all the way from my ass to my right foot. _Fuck_. This hurts like hell.

"Lani, I love you, but when you do that I can't breathe," I chuckle, panting. Only she could make me laugh through my pain.

"Sorwy," She frowns just as Summer walks into the room.

"Come here, honey," my wife says, picking her up and cradling her for a minute before setting her down again. "Your dad needs his rest. How about you go to your room now. It's almost time for bed anyway. What do you say?"

"Yes, Mommy," Our daughter agrees reluctantly.

"Say goodnight to your daddy before you go. I'll be in your room to tuck you in and read you your bedtime story in about half an hour."

"Goodnight, Daddy. Wuv you," Lani obeys, blowing me a kiss, which elicits a genuine smile from me. Even when I'm stressed and in pain, I'm grateful that my daughter has the ability to make me happy.

"I love you too, my little angel ballerina," I grin. "Goodnight."

After Lani leaves our bedroom to get ready for what she likes to call _sleepy__time_, Summer's mood becomes very serious, which I admit is making me nervous. I don't think I can handle anymore bad news.

I struggle to sit up in bed, and like always, she hurries to help me—placing several pillows behind my back for support.

"What's wrong?" I ask, worried. She looks so vulnerable right now—like a child. An innocent, beautiful child who's scared shitless. It still amazes me how she can look so young. If I didn't know she was my age, I'd easily mistake her for a teenager.

"So...," She hesitates, holding my gaze and chewing on her bottom lip nervously. "This came in the mail today," She explains, handing me an already opened envelop.

It's from our bank. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach, I extract the envelope's contents and study the fine print carefully. My hands are shaking, and I swallow hard as I finish reading. It's a certified foreclosure notification. I knew this was coming, but I didn't expect it to happen so soon.

"Fuck," I grunt and then lock eyes with my wife. Her face is drawn with anxiety, and I'd imagine her expression perfectly reflects how I feel.

"What are we going to do?" She suddenly panics and I hold her close to me, kissing her nose gently. "I know we won't be able to come up with the money...we..."

"Hey, s'okay," I try to comfort her, ignoring my physical pain. She needs me. If we lose the house, it will be harder on her and Lani than it will be on me. I've lived in a group home—hell I've even lived on the streets before so almost anything is a step up from the majority of my childhood, but Summer's never had to truly struggle financially. This will be tough on her.

"But our income just isn't enough right now," She chokes out. "We basically get peanuts from your unemployment benefits, and my job just isn't enough! How can we even afford an attorney?"

Her words are harried as she says this, and a few tears escape onto her rosy cheeks, which I brush away.

"S'okay," I murmur.

"It's not okay, Chino, and you know it! We're going to lose the house!" She cries.

"Shhh," I whisper, sweeping a loose strand of hair from her face with my fingers. "Whatever happens, we'll get through it."

"You really think so?" She asks softly—her beautiful face wet with tears. I can't stand to see her cry. She shouldn't have to suffer because of me. It's all my fault. If we lose the house, that's my fault too. She deserves a better husband than me, and there's nothing I dread more than the day she realizes this and leaves.

"Yeah, " My voice falters. I hope I sounded at least a little bit confident. "I'll call our bank in the morning to see if we can arrange a payment plan. If not, maybe your dad can get me in touch with one of his attorneys for some good legal advice. Whatever happens, we'll just take it all in stride and roll with the punches. "

"I love you," She whispers, kissing me passionately on the mouth. Caught in the moment, I can't seem to find the strength to talk anymore so instead, I kiss her back fervently with all the intensity I can muster—trying to convey how much I love her without words. Our tongues intertwine rhythmically to the melody of our heartbeats, and the connection I feel with this beautiful woman is undying. I can only hope she still feels the same way too after all the suffering she's had to endure since being married to me.

She pulls away breathlessly and tells me, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I then caress the smooth skin of her face and wipe away another tear—drawing her closer to me, and she smiles for the first time in almost an hour.

We remain sitting there silently for several minutes, wrapped up in each others' arms until Summer finally breaks the silence saying, "You're right. We're going to be okay."

If I repeat the words enough, maybe someday I might actually believe them.

**TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ** Okay, here's the next chapter. They are continuing to struggle, but one thing will look up for them in this chapter, even if the rest sucks and even got a little bit worse. There is a strong tension building in their marriage because that's what this fic is about. Realistically fights will break out in a marriage and there will be arguing during hard times, but can they move past it eventually and stay together? You know I believe in happy endings. ;-) I look forward to posting Ch. 5 next week. It is extremely long in comparison to the chapters I've already posted and several additional characters from the show will be brought in. Anyway, hopefully you guys are still reading. If you get the chance, please review to let me know you're still interested. :) Also, like always, thanks to beachtree on great feedback for this chapter.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~CHAPTER FOUR~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**3 Months Later.**

Everything's going wrong. Just totally wrong. Why can't life be easier? Why does everything have to be so hard? What did we do to deserve this?

I walk into the modest foyer of our house knowing very well it's going to be the last time for a while. The house is so quiet that for a moment, all I can hear is the sound of my stiletto heels clicking on the linoleum floor below me. One of the framed pictures hanging on the white wall catches my eye and I stop to look at it. It's a picture of our family taken a little over three years ago, shortly before Chino's accident. Lani's toothy smile is so adorable in it and I look good, of course, but the one who really stands out in the picture is Ryan. He's holding little Lani on his lap and his other arm is wrapped around me securely. What's really striking is how healthy and happy he looks. His smile is radiant. He's literally grinning from ear to ear and his eyes beam with the joy and contentment that comes from being a father and a husband. He looks so handsome in the picture. _So_ handsome. I'd do anything to see that smile again. It seems like he hasn't smiled in months. The only time he smiles is around Lani.

"You ready to go?" My husband's hoarse voice pulls me away from my thoughts. I look up to see him limping towards me with our daughter in tow. I guess I was so wrapped up in the pleasant memories the picture evoked that I didn't hear the front door open or the sound of his cane tapping the rug in the walkway.

"Oh, I didn't see you guys come in," I say, ignoring the question as Lani jumps into my arms.

"How was the park?" I ask, tapping her nose affectionately.

"It was okay. Daddy just sat on the bench while I played on the swings." She frowns and it breaks my heart. I can tell she misses running around with her dad. Even half a year ago he was able to keep up with her energy levels. After all, it's not impossible to jog around with a little girl whose stride is so tiny even if you have a prosthetic hip—at least it wasn't. He used to play hide and seek with her at the nearby park, but lately he doesn't have the energy for anything, and I guess he's in too much pain to join in on the fun so he just watches her instead.

"Mommy! Guess what?"

"What, baby? What is it?" I smile at her.

"Daddy said Wukey is coming! I wuv uncle Wukey!" She chirps with excitement.

"That's great, honey. I know." I set her down and ruffle her long, dark brown hair.

"What happened to your pony tail? How did your hair get so messy, young lady?" I ask—my voice stern but motherly.

"My hair is _not_ messy, Mommy!"

"It's windy outside," Ryan interrupts, and for the first time since he and Lani got home, I take in his appearance. His medium length wind blown hair is kind of hot actually, but like usual his deep blue eyes convey a mixture of fatigue and anxiety, his lips seem almost frozen into a tight-lipped smile, and he just looks utterly worn down. He takes a couple more steps towards me, and right now all I want to do is hug him. His gait keeps getting worse. I can honestly say it's painful just watching his attempt at walking, but he insists on staying as active as he can despite not having proper treatment for his sciatica.

"You know, Atwood... we still have the wheel chair you used in the months you were recovering from the accident."

He glares at me with that signature glare of his and I roll my eyes. Of course he's trying to play tough guy.

"You still didn't answer my question," He grumbles, ignoring my comment.

"What question?" I ask, now annoyed.

"And I'm the one who doesn't listen?" He sighs. I've been accusing him lately of not listening to me so I guess his reaction is justified. I hate when he has one up on me. Ass. And I say that with love.

"I'm sorry, okay?" I shoot back. "I don't remember what you asked!"

"I need to know if your damn bags are packed. Are you ready to go yet?" He runs his fingers through his hair, and I can tell he's growing more impatient by the second.

"What is your problem today?" I know I'm being difficult, but I'm in a really pissy mood right now and a rage black out is just waiting to happen.

"I don't know...maybe that you're making this so hard," He gripes. "Look. We don't have all day. Luke will be here soon." His words come out harried, and he's clearly annoyed, but when Lani begins to cry, his entire body visibly deflates. His eyes flash with guilt and shame, but right now I don't care. My daughter is crying, and we shouldn't be arguing around her.

"See what you've caused?" I know it's a low blow. I shouldn't be pointing the blame at him, but I'm also not exactly thinking before talking right now. I'm too upset.

"I'm sorry... oh, God... I didn't—I didn't mean...," He panics as Lani's cries become even louder.

"Save the apologies, Atwood. It's not helping," I hiss, picking up our daughter and cradling her in my arms. I take a quick glance in Chino's direction, and I swear his expression mimics that of a lost little boy, but for whatever reason, I can't get myself to care right now. Finally, Lani calms down and so I walk her into the living room and get her settled on the couch before returning to the foyer where my husband is now sitting on the floor with his head downcast, his arms wrapped around his middle, and his cane forgotten.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" The harshness of my tone grabs his attention and he looks up—his face drawn with worry and sadness.

His eyes briefly flash with hurt, and it's at that point that I realize I've gone too far. I can't believe I'm being such a bitch to him right now. He doesn't need this. I have no clue what's wrong with me, but for some reason I can't stop myself. I'm really pissed at everything. Not him really, but just life. Everything just sucks lately, and given how optimistic I normally am, that's saying a lot.

"Oh, so this whole thing is my fault?" He fumes.

"Chino, I'm... I'm so sorry. Please don't beat yourself up over this. I didn't mean what I just said." I can feel fresh tears threatening to fall, and judging by how dejected he looks sitting there on the floor, he probably feels as bad as I do if not worse.

"Look... it's just... I wish we didn't have to move out," I whisper, sitting down next to him and squeezing his hand lovingly. I'm hoping the simple gesture lets him know I'm not mad at him. He remains silent so I continue: "I wish we didn't have to leave. I know it's not forever, but still... I don't want to go. I love the home we've created here, but I've accepted that for now our best option is to move out and put the house up for rent so yes, I'm ready to move out and our bags are packed. Lani's bags too."

"That's not... I didn't mean... I wasn't...," He swallows hard. "I'm sorry," He finishes, holding my gaze and his eyes say it all. He's frustrated with himself. Frustrated with the pain. Frustrated with life. He blames himself for everything that's happened, and I've only made him feel worse.

"Chino, it's not your fault," I assure him.

"Don't start," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He does that a lot when he's stressed out. He's really been on edge more than ever these past few weeks and it's killing me. We used to be able to talk—not that Chino ever talked a lot, but lately trying to have a conversation with him is like pulling teeth. It feels like there's a big, fat wall between us—bigger than the Great Wall of China. Of course, I wouldn't even know much about the Great Wall of China if it wasn't for Atwood and his stupid stupid evening ritual back when we were in college, which consisted of dinner followed by homework and an hour of watching the History Channel.

I feel a few warm tears escape onto my cheeks, which he gently wipes away. God I miss this. I miss those days we'd watch the History Channel. I miss his rituals. I miss _him_.

The doorbell rings just as it seems he's about to talk, and just like that—we're forced to end our much needed conversation. Truth is, it's been like this for weeks.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Ward," I answer the door, letting in Ryan's best friend who also just so happens to be my former classmate at Harbor High and UCLA as well as Coop's ex-boyfriend. It's been a while since I've talked to Coop. We were best friends since the second grade, but then she went to college on the East Coast and we lost touch. I guess she moved on with her life, and I moved on with mine. I wonder how she's doing.<p>

"You alright, girl?" Luke asks, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Nothing, I guess. You just seemed a little out of it...that's all. And I know you guys are going through the ringer right now."

I have to smile at that. He really is a nice guy. He was a jack ass in middle school and high school, but after his dad came out of the closet and his parents split, he lost his popularity and began to change. He was still a jerk going into college to some degree, but really I think what changed him the most was becoming friends with Ryan his junior year. Luke's been studying in Europe for the past two years, but he just got back a month ago and now he's back in Cali and here to stay.

"God, I'm so sorry. I'm totally an idiot," I flush, embarrassed. "Come on in. Chino's inside."

He gives me a puzzled look, but then nods and steps into the house.

"Chino, how's it going, brother?" Luke greets my husband as he walks into the foyer where Ryan is still sitting on the floor. The two fist pump or whatever guys do, and I see a faint but genuine smile appear on Ryan's tired face. Suddenly I'm that much more grateful to Luke. I mean, yeah he's helping us move into my Aunt Jenny's house and everything, and that's like... totally thoughtful, but more importantly, it's been a while since I saw Atwood smile—I mean genuinely smile around anyone other than Lani, and anybody who can make him smile gets brownie points in my book these days. I only wish it was me who made him smile. It kills me that he's so unhappy and that there's nothing I can do about it.

"Hey, man," Ryan replies, stumbling as he tries to stand up. Well scratch that. Atwood standing up at the moment? Epic fail. I guess he'll stay on the floor for now. Luke quickly notices and his eyebrows furrow with concern.

"Dude, you're not looking so good," He points out.

"Thanks. That made me feel so much better," Ryan deadpans.

"Anytime, but hey... you need some ice or anything? Maybe a heat pack?"

"Nah, I'm good, but thanks," Ryan gives another one of his tight lipped smiles, though it comes off as more of a grimace.

"You sure? You know I tore my ACL last year while boarding the Alps, right?"

"Yeah. You told me," Ryan answers, forcing a smile and scratching the back of his head. He's so cute when he does that.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Well... but the point is... I can kind of relate though obviously my injury was nowhere near as shitty as your injuries in the accident. What pain medication are you taking now?"

"Uh, I...um..," Ryan stutters so I decide to jump in.

"He's not on any pain medications," I explain.

"What the fuck, dude? It's not like I haven't seen you the past few weeks since I got back. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Don't know," Ryan shrugs.

"Dude, you can't always be Superman. You can come to me for help. Is it the money? Is it because you can't afford it anymore after those ass holes laid you off?"

"Luke...," Ryan cuts in.

"Yes, it's because we can't afford it," I interrupt.

"I'm serious though. I know that shit's expensive...," Luke adds.

Ryan nods and bites down on his lower lip, dropping his gaze to the floor and slumping his shoulders.

"Summer, can you please give us a minute alone?" He asks. I nod and leave the room, although what I'm _really_ doing is eavesdropping from the kitchen. Not only that, but I can also still see them from where I'm standing.

"How are you really doing health wise?" Luke asks, concerned. "And don't give me that bullshit about you being fine. I know you too well for that. That shit doesn't work on me anymore."

My husband drops his gaze again, placing a palm on his forehead and drawing in a deep breath before slowly looking up and answering, "Not good, man. It's not good."

"It's sciatica, right?" Luke asks, sitting down next to Ryan—his face drawn with worry.

"Yeah. Bad sciatica. It hurts when I sit, stand, walk, sleep... hell, I'm in pain 24/7."

"How much is it?" Luke asks. "The medication that is."

"$600 for a month supply," Ryan replies.

"I've got your back, dude. I can help you out. I'll help you get the medication."

"You don't have to—," Ryan begins.

"I want to," Luke smiles, patting Chino on the shoulder. "I told you I've got your back. Don't worry about it. You were always there for me back in college. Now it's time for me to be there for you."

I can tell these last words really grab my husband's attention because his entire body seems to relax and his expression softens.

"You sure?" Ryan asks, holding eye contact with Luke. I know the look on his face from a mile away. He's searching his friend's eyes, trying to figure out his motive. He doesn't want to feel pitied. He wants to feel loved. Respected.

"I'm sure," Luke nods with a caring smile.

"Thanks for this," Ryan says softly. The corners of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly, but his eyes give away what he's feeling. He's grateful. Luke genuinely wants to help—not because he feels sorry for him, but because he cares. He cares for his well-being. He cares for our family. As small as Ryan's smile is, it's a sincere one. "Thanks for everything actually," He adds. "For helping us move out... being there for Lani the past couple of weeks when we needed someone to look after her... everything, man. I can't thank you enough."

"No worries," Luke pats him on the back, still smiling. "For you? Anything, buddy."

Ryan nods in appreciation and I can't help but feel ecstatic that we have good friends like Luke and Taylor who help take care of us.

"So where's mini-Chino?" Luke asks as I walk back into the foyer. He calls Lani that, and she loves it.

Almost as if on cue, I hear the pattering of little feet, and we all turn our heads to see Lani running towards us.

"Wukey! You're here!" She exclaims—her bright blue eyes flickering with excitement. She's too young to be affected by the move, and really I'm just happy that so far we've been able to protect her from the harshness of life.

"Mini-Chino! Come here, babe!" He smiles, twirling her around as she giggles.

"Angel, why don't you go get your backpack and Princess Sparkles," Ryan suggests.

Yes, I recently gave Lani my _real_ childhood best friend, Princess Sparkles. No offense to Coop. Anyway, now Lani's totally in love with my plastic pony.

"We can't keep Uncle Luke waiting any longer than he has to," Ryan explains.

"Okay, Daddy," She obeys, running into the living room where our bags are. We aren't taking everything with us. A lot of it is staying in storage. We've also left some possessions in the attic, but whatever guy is renting the place—some guy with the last name Cohen I think—can have the house all to himself until we can finally afford to move back in.

"Hey, I'm going to go wait in the car," Ryan informs us as he struggles to stand up. He picks up his cane and slowly staggers towards the front door. Meanwhile, Luke and I walk into the living room where all the bags are situated.

"So what's the plan?" Luke asks.

"Well, if we can fit everything into your truck and my BMW, then we won't have to make another trip. Chino's in too much pain to carry much. He can't walk very well so that's where you come in."

"You ready then?"

"Yeah," I smile.

"Alright. Let's rock and roll."

* * *

><p>Two weeks pass and things haven't gotten much better. My aunt's house isn't that big... I mean, it's far from a McMansion, and though she's never here, her cats certainly are and I mean... Ew! Chino hates cats. Actually, he's allergic to them so that hasn't gone over very well... poor guy. Plus, my aunt only has one extra room available so that means Lani has to sleep in the same room as us.<p>

Anyway, Ryan's been trying really hard. He's been searching for jobs left and right, but in this economy without a completed Bachelor's degree it seems nobody wants to hire him for anything other than manual labor and physically he's just not capable of that right now. He still can't walk without a cane even with the pain medication. He needs serious physical therapy, and we just can't afford that.

Another problem is, the medication makes him extremely drowsy, but at least he's not in as much pain now as before—not that that has helped our sex life any. Actually, I can honestly say our sex life is non-existent at the moment, which is why Taylor is babysitting Lani tonight, and I'm all dressed up in sexy pink lingerie waiting for muscle boy to come home—not that he's muscle boy anymore either though. Actually he's giving Olive Oyl a run for her money. Okay, maybe that's a huge exaggeration, but my point is Atwood really needs his appetite back, which is yet another thing that's almost non-existent with all the stress he's under. It doesn't help that one of the side effects of his pain medication is loss of appetite.

I hear the front door of my aunt's quaint, two bedroom house open, and I know he must finally be back. I glance at the alarm clock and take a deep breath. God, I can't believe it's already nine in the evening. I check myself in the mirror. Mascara, eyeshadow, and eye liner on perfectly? Check. Sexy hairstyle? Check. Cleavage showing? Check. Lipstick on perfectly? Check. Lingerie approval? Well Atwood better approve or I'll kick his ass back to Chino.

"Summer, are you...," He trails off, stopping dead in his tracks when he notices me standing in front of the bathroom mirror.

"You look...," He gulps. "Wow."

I smile seductively, pleased that I still have the ability to make him speechless. From the way he's walking, either his sciatica is bothering him even more today or his manhood just grew a few sizes bigger. I'm crossing my fingers that it's the latter.

"Glad you noticed," I smirk. Yeah, I know I'm being arrogant. It's fun. I walk towards him, swaying my hips from side to side and wrap my arms around his neck. Our lips connect and our tongues intermingle. Both moaning from pleasure, we finally pull away from each other and he leans his forehead against mine—a lazy smile now forming on his adorable face.

"You seem to be in a better mood tonight," I chuckle, kissing him passionately once more.

"Yeah, well... ," He says, catching his breath. "A certain brunette tends to have that effect on me," He murmurs huskily, kissing me again. It's good to see him excited and even smiling. He still rarely smiles these days, especially not around me. Not much has changed from two weeks ago.

"Where's our daughter?" He asks, cupping my butt with his strong hands and planting a trail of soft kisses down the nape of my neck.

"At Taylor's," I mumble, digging my nails into the small of his back and crashing his lips into mine hungrily. He's definitely a lot thinner, but God his back is still so muscular and it's _hot,_and his tongue still feels so good in my mouth. I want to taste every bit of him. He's the definition of man.

I pull away from the kiss for a minute to tap his nose playfully and he taps my nose back whispering, "You, Summer Roberts-Atwood are irresistible, you know that?" He gives me one of his signature half smiles, and I'm seriously fighting the urge to jump him right now. It's about damn time he gives me that sexy half smile. I was missing that from him. My plan seems to be working.

"You're pretty irresistible yourself when you're like this," I reply. Our mouths connect again, but this time instead of a moan, he produces a groan. Fucking sciatica. He recovers though and we're about to kiss again until I whisper into his hear: "I'm hoping your good mood is also because today was your lucky day. The day you got hired."

I guess it was the wrong thing to say because suddenly his whole body tenses and he pulls himself away from me, lets out a frustrated sigh, and limps awkwardly over to the bed. God I'm so stupid. I was supposed to keep him in a good mood, but now I ruined it.

"I guess that's a... no." I pout and his eyes become distant like they always do when he's in the middle of a brooding session. Another minute of silence passes, and he kicks off his shoes, unbuttons his shirt, tosses his pants to the floor, staggers over to the bathroom, takes a quick shower, brushes his teeth, and then stumbles back into the bed.

"Uh uh. Atwood, come on. You can't be serious!" I frown.

"Um... what are we talking about, again?" He asks, clearly out of it. He must have taken his damn pain medication already because his eyes are starting to have that glazed over, drugged up look again.

"You know what I'm talking about! When's the last time we... you know...made love?"

"Summer...," He mumbles into his pillow.

"Ryan...," I spit back in mock imitation, rolling my eyes. He ignores me. Well actually, he seems to be drifting off to sleep. Ugh! I might as well get dressed and pick Lani up. Clearly Atwood and I have lost the spark.

**TBC.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry I took so long to post this. This chapter has been written, but I didn't have time to upload it until now. Several characters are introduced in this chapter. Enjoy! :) And please review if you get the chance! Your comments and feedback help a lot! Really it does. And thanks to my lovely beta, beachtree. ;)**

**~*~*~*~*~CHAPTER FIVE~*~*~*~*~**

"Summer?" I mumble hoarsely, nuzzling my nose into one of the soft pillows clustered around my head.

Keeping my eyes closed, I stretch my arm across the bed to stroke her hair, but frown when I realize her spot is cold and empty. She's not there, which happens a lot lately. She keeps getting up earlier and earlier and leaving earlier and earlier and then she complains that I always come home late, but what is a guy supposed to do? I'm doing the best I can. It's a tough economy, and I feel like an absolute failure as a husband and parent because I can't support my family financially the way I wish I could.

I let out a frustrated sigh and slowly rub the sleep out of my tired eyes. I have to admit that physically, I feel a lot better today than I have in a long time. Glancing over at the alarm clock, I realize it's only six in the morning. As I push myself out of bed groggily, briefly scanning the room, I notice that Lani is nowhere in sight either. I guess they're both already up.

Limping my way out of the bedroom, I'm pleased to find that for the first time in months I may be able to actually walk without a cane—at least for today.

I enter the kitchen in search of my lovely wife and child, but still don't find them anywhere, which is kind of strange... I mean, it's Summer's day off. I was hoping we could do something. After all, I can't remember the last time we even shared a meal together.

It feels like there's been a standstill in our marriage lately, and it's tearing me apart. I still love her. I'll always love her. But I haven't been there these past few weeks the way I should have been. Even though the medication helps, it doesn't completely take the pain in my leg and hip away and it always makes me feel nauseous and completely run down. I always wake up feeling exhausted no matter how much sleep I get. On top of that, I've just been emotionally drained, overwhelmed, and even a bit disillusioned. These are things I have trouble admitting out loud, but I can't hide from the truth anymore. I'm scared shitless. Things never seem to go my way. It's that damn Atwood luck Trey used to always talk about. My asshole dad had it. Trey had it. Mom had it... and hell, I got cursed with it too. And now I feel guilty. Summer needs me—the old me, and I haven't been the man she married these past few weeks. I don't even know why she's still with me. I'm a terrible husband and as hard as I try, I'm a terrible father, and my biggest fear is that one of these days I'll come home and they won't be here.

"Summer?" My voice echoes through the narrow hallway as I continue looking for my family. "Lani?"

I peer through the window and notice her car isn't in the driveway. Strange. Next, I head back to the bedroom, running a hand through my hair nervously. I open the closet and notice a duffel bag and some of Summer's clothes missing, and I can feel goosebumps forming on my arms. Growing more and more anxious by the second, I leave the room again and stagger back into the kitchen, stopping dead in my tracks as a cluster of painful memories hit me all at once.

"_I can't do this anymore, Ryan! I can't! You want to throw your life away too—I'm not gonna watch it."_

"_I'm sorry, Mom—," I choke out._

"_They shoulda locked you up. Right next to your dad. Right next to that stupid ass brother of yours."_

"_Don't say that—"_

"_You're a disappointment to me. You're a disgrace. A mistake! I wish I never had you, Ry! All you've ever done is drag me down!"_

_I can feel my eyes burning with wetness and it's only then that I realize the tears I'm desperately trying to hold back. _

"_I can't do it. I want you outta my house! I want you out!"_

_I've never lived on streets before, and I can't go to a group home. I can't. Last time was painful enough, but this is worse. Last time my mom didn't kick me out. Last time it was the system that took me away from her. Last time I had the hope that I'd be reunited with her again. All she had to do was sober up, and for a short while she did—just enough for me to be able to move back in with her. Then the drinking started again. I stood up for her. .. helped her... worked a construction job to help pay the bills... cleaned her mess up when she'd vomit and was too hung over to do it herself. This can't be happening._

"_What? But... but... Mom, where am I going to go?" I panic. _

"_You heard your mother, man. Get your stuff and get out," AJ barks. God I hate that guy. The way he talks, you'd think he owns all of Chino. He's a nasty, smelly mother fucker and it's 'cause of his ugly ass that my mom's gotten hooked on coke. Now they use the little money we do have on hard drugs. _

"_This __isn't __your __house, _man_!__" __I __retort __angrily._

"_Oh, you think you're a tough guy now?" AJ shoves me hard and I stumble backwards._

"_AJ, don't! Ryan, just get the fuck out, goddammit!" Dawn yells. I can't believe it. She's really kicking me the hell outta here._

"_Why don't you start worrying about your own kids, AJ, instead of freeloading off my m-"_

_My words are cut short when he pounds my jaw hard with his fist. I take a step back, trying to shake away the dizziness, but before I can defend myself, he backhands me in the face again, and next thing I know, I'm on the floor and he's kicking me in the ribs, spinning me around, picking me up and tossing me onto the hardwood floor of my room as if I'm a fucking Frisbee or something._

I spot a note on the kitchen counter, and I swear my body goes numb, and my heart stops beating for a few seconds. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. This is the moment I've been dreading. God, I pray it's not true. Summer wouldn't... she... she... she loves me too much, right? I mean, she promised right? We made our vows. She couldn't... and.. and.. she wouldn't take my kid away too, would she? But we haven't exactly been getting along well the past several weeks. It seems that every discussion turns into an argument. It seems that I can't do anything right. Everything I do is all wrong to her. Nothing's good enough. I'm not enough.

But I'm her husband. I mean... that's gotta count for something? Sure she makes more money than me now that I don't have a job, and she probably feels I'm dragging the family down with my health problems, but... she wouldn't leave me, right? She promised! But shit... if anybody knows that promises are meant to be broken, it's me. It's the story of my fucking life. It'd be delusional for me to trust someone not to leave or give up on me eventually. I've never been worth it, and I guess I never will be. I'm damaged goods, but then why does the very thought of this hurt so much if it's my fault? Oh, God. What do I do?

_After __spending __a __week __sleeping__ on __the __floor __of__ an __abandoned__ warehouse __since __my__ shithead __uncle__ wouldn't __let __me __crash __with __him __and__ Theresa's__ visiting __family __in __Atlanta__ with __her __mom,__ I__ decide __to__ come __home. __I __mean...__what__ the __fuck__ can __AJ__ do__ about__ it? __I'm __Dawn's __kid.__ She's __gotta __let __me__ back__ in, __right?_

_The tires on my bike squeak as I pedal as hard as I can on my way home. It's that fucking rusty chain. It needs to be replaced, but we can't afford it. It's okay though 'cause the irritating noise is actually keeping me distracted. My stomach is growling. Shit. I haven't had a decent meal in days. I really hope there's something in the fridge when I reach the house, but I wouldn't be surprised if fucking AJ left the fridge empty again with nothing but booze. I wish my mom would dump his grungy ass. What does she see in the guys she brings home?_

_After about a half hour, I finally spot the familiar uncut lawn and cracked front window that sets our dingy house apart from the others lining the neighborhood. Don't get me wrong. It's not like all the other houses are mansions, but at least the other owners take enough pride in themselves to make their property look somewhat respectable. Shit. We don't even own a lawn mower because Dawn refuses to spend money on anything that doesn't involve drugs or alcohol. _

_I pedal slowly into the driveway and jump off my bike, reaching into the pocket of my hoodie for the house keys. As I approach the front door, I make a mental note to myself to save up some money to buy a bucket of paint and a brush. The chipped yellow paint on the door looks terrible. The least I can do is make some part of the house look presentable. _

_I open the door, and immediately I can feel the blood drain from my face. I'm breathing heavily now, but all I feel is numbness. Fuck. It's empty. The furniture is gone and the only thing left behind is the trash littering the floor. I run aimlessly to my room and then to my mom's room and then into the kitchen, and I begin to feel overwhelmed. This is too much. Really, it's too much. That's when I notice a note on the kitchen counter. It's written in crayon. Crayon! Reluctantly, I pick it up and begin to read, tears welling up in my eyes. _

_**Ryan,**_

_**I put up with too much. I'm sorry. Have a good life. Don't come looking for me. It's better this way.**_

_**-Mom**_

As I stumble towards the kitchen counter, I can barely feel my legs. So many thoughts are passing through my mind right now, and I can barely think straight. Fear... dread... apprehension... it all hits me at once. I don't even know if I can get my trembling hands to pick up the note. I don't want to know what it says. I don't want to believe that Summer would leave me—rip my heart out and shred it to tiny pieces. I know there's a possibility the note just says she's out to the grocery store with Lani or something like that, but then why am I so afraid?

Finally, my hand grips the thin sheet of loose-leaf paper before my brain can even process what's happening and my eyes scan the bubbly handwriting apprehensively.

_**Chino,**_

_**You fell asleep so early tonight, and I was bored so instead of picking Lani up at Taylor's, I've decided to just stay over. You look so peaceful sleeping right now and as adorable as your Chino glare is when you're sleepy and grumpy, I don't want to wake you up. Please don't worry. This is totally a spur of the moment thing. I just need some space. I love you. You know that. I just need some girl time—some time to think, and I think our daughter does too. I may be home tomorrow night or it may be in a couple of days. Have a fun-tastic Friday! Maybe you can call up Luke or something and have a guy's night out. **_

_**Love,**_

_**Wifey**_

I can't really explain how I feel right now. On the one hand I feel relieved that this wasn't a farewell note, but on the other hand, I still have that same unsettling feeling in my stomach. What if she stays at Taylor's for more than a couple of days? What if days turn into weeks? What if she's pissed at me and doesn't want to see me? I wish I could just trust that she'd stay and rid myself of every insecurity, but I don't know how. I love my daughter and Summer with every ounce of life I have, and I'm terrified of losing them. I decide to call up Luke. Maybe he'll have some good advice.

* * *

><p>Luke picks up on the third ring, and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.<p>

"Hello?"

"Hey, man. It's me."

"Chino. Dude, what's up? You alright?"

"Yeah. But um... I was wondering... are you busy later?"

"I've got some work to finish up at the dealership, but I should be free after four. Why?"

"Well... I, uh... was wondering if we could maybe meet up?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll swing by Jenny's house at around 4:30."

"Actually, I've gotta talk to Mr. Cohen today at around that time. Could you maybe come around 6:00?"

"Mr. Cohen? That's the dude who's trying to rent your house right?" He asks.

"Yeah," I confirm. "Why?"

"Just wondering. Sounds familiar. I knew someone with that last name back in high school."

"Yeah?" I ask, curious.

"Yeah, this kid named Seth. I was a real dick back then. He went to boarding school or something and I never saw him again, but if I saw the guy today, I'd seriously apologize—not that he'd have a reason to forgive me."

"Interesting." I really don't know what to say to that.

"So anyway... I gotta get back to work, but... see ya at 6:00?"

"You got it."

"Later, man."

"Later. And Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"No worries." Typical Luke. I can tell he's smiling on the other line and just knowing I've got someone I can count on makes me smile too.

* * *

><p><em>She needs me now, but I can't seem to find the time<em>

_I've got a new job now on the unemployment line,_

_And we don't know how—how we got into this mess,_

"Oh my God, we should go shopping!" Taylor squeals, rubbing her palms together excitedly. I swear... sometimes this girl has way too much energy. "We can pick out a cute outfit for Lani. I saw this scarf on sale at Bloomingdale's that would look cute on her, and then we can come back and make cheese souffles. I took this cooking course when I worked in France last year... oh, and tonight there's this Korean barbeque at my friend Sung Ho's place. Don't worry... Lani can come too. He has a son her age. Oh my God, I'm so excited!"

"I should probably call Chino." Honestly, I didn't even hear a word Taylor just said. I can't stop thinking about him. It's been plaguing me all morning. I hope he's not hurt that I'm not spending my day off with him. It's just... I miss the way things were before, and I needed a break from him since obviously things right now aren't how they used to be. Lately I feel like I can't even talk to him. It's like... I never say the right thing, and it's hard to read him these days. It doesn't help that I've been acting like a spoiled brat. God, ever since I met Ryan, I began resenting Newpsies, and my biggest fear now is that I'm turning into one.

"Summer, were you even listening to me?" Taylor asks, sounding a little confused.

"What? Oh, sorry T. Uh, what were you saying?" I ask, finally meeting her gaze.

She sighs, and then sits down on her bed next to me.

"It's not important. I'm just worried about you."

"Well don't be. I'm fine," I lie, biting my lower lip.

"You do remember that I happen to be a certified emotional therapist, right? You are definitely _not_ fine, and I'm going to get to the bottom of this. Summer Atwood, we need to have a serious girl talk. What's going on? You didn't even tell me why you came over last night with Lani. Is everything okay with Ryan?"

"Yeah... I mean... no. No, nothing is okay," I choke on my words. "And it's probably my fault. I've been putting a lot of pressure on him. God, I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster. Just talk to him. I'm sure whatever you said or did, he'll understand," She placates me.

"I'm not so sure about that," I mutter. "It seems like we don't get each other at all anymore."

"You're in a rut, huh?"

"More like rut squared." I frown, folding my arms on my lap in front of me. "If our relationship was like a tropical island, then we're in danger of getting hit by a category 5 hurricane."

"That bad? I'm so sorry, sis. I had no idea. You haven't been talking much about it the past few weeks beyond the basics. I thought you guys were coping well... considering everything. What's wrong?"

"Everything, okay! Just... everything!" I throw my hands up, frustrated. "We don't talk the way we use to, we don't spend time together anymore, every discussion turns into an argument, which... may I add is my fault almost every single time... He's rarely even home when I'm home because he's out looking for jobs only to get rejection after rejection, and he doesn't get back until night and when he does, he's either in too much pain or too damn tired to talk and then when we do talk, I end up saying crap I don't mean and..."

"Summer... Summer... slow down. Let's take it one problem at a time. Why do you think the arguments are your fault?"

"Because they are, okay! I blame him for crap that isn't his fault. Hell, if Lani's upset and crying, I even put _that_ on him. I stress him out even more than he already is. I know he's frustrated over not having a job, yet for whatever reason I ask him every single day if he finally got one. I see the way it affects him, and I haven't done anything about it and now he's become so closed off. It's almost like he avoids me just to escape the tension."

"How's your sex life?" She asks.

"Non-existent," I answer flatly. "You remember that time you came along when I took Lani to the doctor to get her second MMR shot?"

"Yeah, I remember that!" Taylor snorts. "She can be a stubborn little thing. I'm surprised the doctor was able to even give it to her."

"Well trying to get Atwood to have sex these days is like ten times worse."

"Ouch. You guys have lost the magic, huh? You know the Karma Sutra can..."

"Taylor," I cut her off, glaring at her intently. She shuts up immediately so it seems to have worked. I guess some of Chino's personality traits have rubbed off on me.

"Sorry. You know me... gotta have my fix of tasteful erotica, and Ryan is hot... well when he's a little beefier. Lately he's looking a little..."

"I know, Taylor. You don't have to tell me he needs to gain weight. I know. That has nothing to do with our sex life. Sciatica doesn't exactly put someone in the mood for making sweet love..."

She gives me a rueful smile and slowly nods in understanding, but I have to admit I'm relieved she's dropped the subject. Talking to Taylor about my sex life isn't exactly my favorite pass time. Besides, it's kind of a shallow topic. Okay, okay. I know coming from me that sounds a bit off since sometimes I can be queen of the shallow. I mean my favorite hobbies are shoe shopping, tanning, and celebrity gossip, but... when it comes to Atwood, I don't think anything can make me stop loving him. His teeth could fall out and he could grow like... bald or something, and I'd still love him... though the thought of that definitely screams out 'E_w_.'

"So have you apologized for how you've been treating him?" Taylor's voice pulls me away from my thoughts.

"No," I answer regretfully. "Well... not enough."

"I remember you telling me when you first started dating him back in college that you were scared to take the relationship to the next level because all guys get bored with you and move on and you were afraid he was going to be one of those guys. I also remember you once telling me about your mom, and how she left you and..."

"Taylor, where are you going with this?" I ask abruptly. I don't mean to be a bitch, but sometimes I wish she wasn't a therapist. Every time she starts playing psychologist with me she's usually right, and she gets a big head. I can only imagine what she's about to ask me.

"I just don't like to see your marriage suffer like this. You guys are like family to me. I mean, you're Rymmer... Summeryan—the cutest couple. I was just wondering if your insecurities with Ryan are rooted in things you've gone through in the past. Are you afraid he's going to walk out on you? Ask for a divorce?"

"Actually... I think it's the opposite." I drop my gaze, focusing on the chipped red polish on my finger nails. Gosh, I really need a manicure.

"What do you mean?" She asks.

"I think he's afraid I'm going to walk out on him," I answer honestly.

That's really how I think he feels. I can see it in his eyes. He's scared I'm going to bolt, and right now I don't know how to deal with it because while I have thought about spending some time apart from him to give us both time to reflect, I could never divorce him. I love him too much.

"Well maybe that's the problem then," Taylor replies with a sad smile. "Maybe you need to let him know once and for all that you're not going anywhere, and I think I can help."

Suddenly I'm glad I came here. As quirky and annoying as she can be, Taylor really is a great person, and she can be pretty wise too.

"Come on." She smiles. "Let's go shopping—"

"But—"

She must catch on that my main concern is lack of spending money because she quickly cuts me off saying, "Don't worry... it's my treat. It'll help cheer you up, and we can figure out a plan."

* * *

><p>"So how am I going to make this scrap book without going back to Jenny's?" I ask as Taylor and I arrive at South Coast Plaza with Lani in tow. "All the photo albums are over there in boxes."<p>

"No need to fear, Madame Summer Roberts-Atwood. Taylor Townsend est ici [is here]. I still have all the pictures you've sent me over the years including some from college, your wedding, and a few others. We can scan and print them in high quality and go from there."

"I always knew there was a reason we became friends," I smile. She claps her hands together in delight—flashing me one of her quirky Townsend grins, and I can tell she's pleased with herself.

"Mommy, can we get ice cweam?" My daughter asks, tugging at my purse and interrupting our conversation.

"Maybe later, sweetheart. If you're good today."

"Okay!" She squeals. "Aunt Taylor?"

"Yes, gorgeous?"

"Guess who?" She asks—her tiny hands hiding her bright blue eyes.

Taylor chuckles. "Who?"

"Peek-a-boo!" Lani giggles, uncovering them.

And as I watch the interaction between my best friend and my daughter, I can't help but laugh along too. It's going to be a good day.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, I'm strolling through Nordsrom around the Chanel counter, and I overhear a few of my co-workers talking. I've always hated them. Okay, <em>hate<em> is a strong word, but they are so freakin' annoying. And to think if I hadn't met Ryan I could have ended up just like them...

"I feel _so_ sorry for Summer. That poor thing. I can't believe she's married to that guy from Chino," Holly chirps. Gosh, I can't stand Holly. We used to be close in high school, but she's such a bitch. How dare she talk about Ryan like that.

"I know! How does she put up with him? He is totally wrong for her!"

Ugh, Sabrina is even worse, and working with her is pure torture...

"Yeah, she should like... totally divorce his ugly ass and take Alana with her. Summer and Alana would be much better off. He's probably a terrible father. I heard he's a formal criminal!"

Oh. My. God. I can't believe her! Uh-uh. Nobody talks about my man like that! And he is _so_ not ugly or a criminal! I am totally giving her a black eye! Maybe two!

"Really? I heard that too! I heard he used to be a big time car thief and drug dealer! How could she even marry someone like that?"

Okay, make that two black eyes for Sabrina as well.

"I bet he's an alcoholic. I saw him walking down the street one night a few months ago and he could barely walk upright."

An alcoholic? How the hell do these air-headed bitches come up with this stuff? Chino barely even drinks!

"God, seriously? But if she divorces him, it's not like she'll get much money in alimony..."

"I know what you mean. Summer makes more than he does!"

"I heard he doesn't even work! Can you believe it? He's using that poor girl for her money and her rich family roots and she fell for it! How could she even have had a kid with him? To put that poor little girl through all that?"

"I know! I bet he got her pregnant on purpose so she'd stay with him, and now that poor little girl has to grow up with such a horrible father. I _totally_ agree, Holly. Summer should divorce that loser! He's taking her money!"

"Well she was rich, but let's not forget the other reason to feel sorry for her. I heard Neil Roberts is a total mess right now. He needs some serious help after he lost that malpractice case and that lady he was married to... what's her name again? Gloria?"

"Yeah, that's her name. She divorced him and even sued him..."

"Hey, Holly," I interrupt, smiling smugly. "Sabrina," I add, glaring at the bleach blonde haired, overly tanned bitch. They both look shocked to see me—embarrassed even. Looks like I'm going to have more fun than I thought.

"Summer, hi! I thought... I thought it was your day off...," Holly replies in her annoying, high-pitched voice.

"Hey bitch," Sabrina greets me with her plastic smile and even more annoying and high-pitched voice. 'Hey bitch' may be a friendly greeting among Newport skanks, but I'm way over that. It's _so_ high school. Botox, plastic smiles, plastic noses, and boob implants are _so_ not my thing. Nope! I can't stand Newpsies.

"Yeah, well... I like to shop on my days off, and clearly you like to talk about my husband," I say aggressively, placing a hand on my right hip and tilting my head with attitude.

The look on each of their faces is priceless. I wish I had a camera right now. Sabrina especially. She looks like she's about to piss her pants. They _obviously_ weren't expecting me to respond like this.

"Look, I don't know what you think you heard but—"

"I know what I heard! According to you my husband is an alcoholic, bad father, terrible husband, a criminal, and after my money!"

"Well isn't he?" Holly asks. God, is she really that dumb?

"No, he's not! He has a severe injury you stupid sluts! That's why he walks funny! In fact, if you saw him recently he has a cane! Chino barely even drinks! He's a damn good husband and father! He busts his ass to take care of us! He's better than any stupid jock we went to high school with, and I would never divorce him!" I lash out. I better calm down or they both really will have black eyes. If I aim lower, their silicon boobs may even explode. "And my life is _my_ life! I don't need you to approve of—"

Next thing I know I'm swinging at these girls until I feel someone pulling me back.

"Come on, girl. Let's go," Taylor interjects, alerting me of her and Lani's presence. She had taken Lani to get cleaned up in the bathroom after the little darling spilled chocolate ice cream all over her pants. Lani! Oh gosh. I can't believe she just saw me lose control like this. This can't be good.

"Oh my gosh," I reply, _totally_ embarrassed that right now the entire store is probably gawking at us.

"They're not worth it. Let's go," Taylor says, tugging me away from Holly and Sabrina. For a second I turn around and swear I see Luke from a distance looking in our direction, but why would he be in the make-up and beauty section? He doesn't have a girlfriend. I shrug, deciding it's probably just a look-a-like. Half of Newport's men probably resemble Luke anyway. It's not like his Abercrombie good looks are unique to this hell hole.

* * *

><p><em>Is it God's test? Someone help us 'cause we're doing our best.<em>

_Trying to make it work, but man these times are hard._

"Thanks for coming, Mr. Cohen," I greet the man on the other side of the door. Something about him seems so familiar—almost as if I'd seen him in another life or something.

"It's great to finally meet with you in person," He smiles, shaking my hand. "Please call me Sandy. Formal greetings make me feel so old."

"That's not the first time I've heard someone say that." I give him a small half smile and lead him into Jenny's house where he takes a seat on her living room couch.

"Can I get you anything?" I ask politely. "There's water and juice in the fridge. I'd offer you more, but... we need to go shopping..."

"Thanks for the offer, Ryan. A water would be great! I'm parched," He grins. He seems like a good guy. It's his eyes. They seem warm and inviting once you get past the large, bushy black eyebrows. I think I can feel comfortable with this guy living in my house.

I return holding a glass of water, which I give to him before sitting down in the adjacent loveseat.

"So how'd you like the house? I know Summer let you in a couple of days ago to take a look." I figure easing into a conversation will be the best approach.

"It's terrific! You and Summer kept it in great condition, especially for having a kid and no maid."

"Thanks," I blush slightly, glad to know our hard work paid off. "I know it's not as big as a lot of the other houses in Newport, but it's still a nice place to raise a family."

"Hey, I'm with you 100% on that. You've done a great job with it."

"So when would you like to move in?" I ask, a little bit anxious. The sooner the better really.

"As soon as possible. I've already signed the paperwork, which I brought with me today."

"Good. Good. So the month-to-month agreement was okay with you then?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I can tell you're a good guy, and it's really been a pleasure doing business with you. I'm going to hire some landscapers to take the load off you too. I know you're going through a rough time so you won't need to worry about any of that. I'm just grateful I was able to find some reasonably priced property to rent. It's not easy starting over, and living here for the time being will give me some time to try and get back on my feet."

He's helping us too so I guess there really is such a thing as a win-win.

"You like the neighborhood?" I ask kindly. "Mr. Grigsby, who lives next door, is pretty nice once you get to know him, and Mrs. Applebalm sometimes comes by with baked cookies." I smile just thinking about her. Lani loves that lady.

"Yeah, yeah! Everything's great. I actually know Mrs. Applebalm. She's a sweet lady. She was one of Seth's teachers in the ninth grade."

Seth. Seth must be his son. So Sandy must be the father of the guy Luke was telling me about.

There's an awkward silence between us before he finally says, "I don't mean to change the subject, but that's quite a limp you've got there. Can I ask what happened to ya?" He holds my gaze and I take a deep breath. Normally I'd be reluctant to reveal too much about my injury, but he seems genuine. It helps that I know he's a public defender and funds a low-income housing development just outside of Chino.

"Uh, well... I was in an accident a few years ago and... needed hip replacement surgery. It never healed properly so what you're seeing is the result...," I trail off, averting my eyes and taking another deep breath as the memories hit me all over again.

"I'm sorry to hear that. From everything I know about hip replacement surgeries, usually they are successful unless the physicians and nursing staff botched up."

"Yeah... but I didn't exactly have health insurance at the time. They had to... wait several weeks to operate, and while waiting, I got an infection." I wince as I remember my stay in the hospital.

"I can relate," He says. I wrinkle my forehead, trying to figure him out and our eyes lock again. I'm not sure what part of my life he's claiming to relate to. The part about being too poor to have health insurance? The part about being temporarily disabled in a serious accident? I know he doesn't know about my life pre-Newport: the group home, the abuse, the abandonment...

"Where are you from again?" I search for answers. I find this man intriguing.

"Oh, that's a long story. How much time do you have?" He asks thoughtfully.

"I've got time," I simply say.

"Well I'm from the Bronx originally. My mom was always working and my dad wasn't around so I moved across the country at sixteen to make a life for myself. I ended up later going to Berkeley for both undergrad and law school and became a public defender. Berkeley is also where I met the love of my life, Kirsten."

"I wasn't aware you were married. I thought you moved in by yourself." I knit my eyebrows in confusion.

"I'm not married," He frowns, and suddenly I regret saying anything. "We separated back in 2003. My son became really antisocial and she blamed me. After her mom died of cancer, she started burying herself in her work. Her father, Caleb, wasn't my biggest fan either and conspired to turn her against me. My son ended up going to boarding school on the east coast and not even a month later, she filed for divorce. She's now married to Jimmy Cooper, who was our next door neighbor and also her first love."

He shutters and it seems that he's fighting to keep his emotions in check. Now I feel like an ass for opening up this can of worms.

"I'm so sorry." It's lame, but what else am I supposed to say? It sucks and nothing I say is going to change how he probably feels. I guess he can relate to me though. I see what he means now.

"About your dad too," I add. "And your mom. I've been there," I inhale deeply and wet my lips with my tongue.

"I know."

I'm momentarily paralyzed. Know what? What does he know? I can feel a knot forming in my stomach.

"Wha—what do you mean? I've never... what do you know about my past?"

I'm really hoping Summer didn't tell him anything.

"We've met once before," He replies, leaving me baffled. "In 2003."

In the next minute, I study his face carefully. He does seem familiar. I know he's a public defender. Wait, I went to juvie in 2003.

"Did you sometimes take clients over at the Chino penitentiary?" I swallow a lump forming in my throat, my eyebrows knitting together in a pensive expression. If this is a mystery, I'm determined to solve it.

He nods and answers, "Yes. Several times."

Suddenly it all comes back to me—the kind blue eyes, the bushy eyebrows, hell even the name. He looks a lot older now. Maybe that's why I didn't recognize him at first. He's also a bit heavier than he was back then. His once black hair is mostly gray now, and I can see several more wrinkles that weren't there eight years ago, but the eyes and eyebrows are still the same. I remember.

"You defended my brother. Trey Atwood," I say softly, my words fading into a whisper.

"You figured it out, kid." Strangely it doesn't bother me that he just called me 'kid.' He is a lot older than me and I can tell this is his way of letting me know he wants to be a part of my life—not just my tenant. He continues: "I was assigned to your case originally, but my son got sick that day and another public defender took the job instead, but about a month later I met you in the group home you were assigned to."

"You came to ask me a few questions about Trey to help with his case," I nod slowly. I must sound dazed right about now. This is surreal. This man has seen Trey's file. He may have even seen my file. I don't know that I'm comfortable with him knowing this much about my childhood, but I guess I have no choice but to deal with it.

"Are you still his lawyer?" I ask, feeling slightly dizzy. I haven't seen Trey in five years, but I know he managed to get thrown back into prison for violating his parole. Typical Trey.

"No. My life fell apart after my son left and Kirsten divorced me. I had a break down and moved back to New York. Now all these years later, here I am again... hoping to start over."

"I appreciate everything you did for my brother." I hold his gaze intently, hoping to convey how grateful I am to him for caring enough to work on Trey's case. I remember Trey telling me how hardworking his lawyer was, and I remember him getting out a year early. Too bad he had to screw it all up not even a year later. I feel bad for Sandy though. Here he was making sacrifices for my brother and his whole life crumbled. "And... I'm really sorry things didn't work out for you at home," I finish.

"Thanks... and really I've wanted to say this to you since I realized it was your house I was renting. You've done well for yourself. Not many kids make it out of those group homes. I know life isn't perfect, but you've come a long way, and if my conversation with your wife a couple of days ago told me anything... she loves you, kid. You could have done worse."

I don't know why, but his words really connect with me. He seems to really care, and even if he's just trying to make me feel better, at the moment I can't help but smile.

* * *

><p><em>She's in line at the dole with her head held high,<em>

_While I just lost my job, but didn't lose my pride,_

Thanks to Taylor, Lani and I spent the majority of the day shopping for art supplies to make Ryan a scrapbook. I can't believe I've never made him one before. I've made him collages, and I've gotten him nice gifts, but somehow I'd never thought to make him something like this. On our way back to Taylor's house, we decide to stop at Burger King. I know I shouldn't be eating fast food, but what the heck... one day won't kill me, right?

I decide to go ahead and order since Taylor said she'll be a few minutes. She's outside talking to her friend Sung Ho on the phone so I don't doubt it.

"I'll have a junior whopper, large fries, and also a chocolate milkshake please."

"Mommy, can I have chicken stwips pwease?" Lani tugs at my arm.

"Yes, honey. You want the kids meal? They have toys from that movie you like... the one with that chubby, green ogre."

Her face lights up and I feel a small smile tugging at corners of my lips. "His name is Shwek, Mommy! And yes, pwease. I wuv kids meals. And... and can I go pway in the ball pit?"

"Of course you can. I'll be waiting for you right here."

She runs off to the play area while I wait for our food. About a minute later, I feel a hand tapping my shoulder and I turn around to see a fairly tall, gangly guy with curly, dark hair and brown eyes standing next to me. He's wearing blue jeans, green converse sneakers, and a fitted black t-shirt with X-Men or Ice Man or one of those nerdy superheroes on it. I think I've seen him before, but I can't really remember. He can't be much older than me though.

"Hey, Summer." He waves, grinning from ear to ear.

"Do I know you?" I ask, confused. I'm not trying to be mean. I just really can't remember where I've seen this guy before, but obviously he knows me.

"Ouch," He makes his best 'hurt' face, and I can't tell if I really hurt his feelings or if he's just kidding around. He seems really sarcastic.

Just in case I did hurt his feelings, I quickly assure him: "Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad day. I mean...you seem cool and everything. I just don't remember ever talking to you."

"I lived next door to your best friend in high school."

"Wait, you lived next to Coop? I didn't know her neighbors had a kid!"

"And again I have to say it. Ouch."

I don't know what I should say next, but luckily they hand me my order at the counter, and Taylor arrives just on time saying, "Oh, hi, Seth. Wow, it's been so long."

Maybe the gods summoned her to show up right at this very moment. That would explain a lot because right now, the less I say, the better. I'm _totally_ digging a hole for myself.

"Taylor Townsend. You remembered my name. That's nice," He jokes, smiling.

"What can I say? You, Seth Cohen, are unforgettable," She winks.

That's interesting. Wait his last name is Cohen? After a few seconds the light bulbs flash in my head.

"Oh. my. God. Is your dad Sandy Cohen?" I ask, astonished.

"Uh, yeah. Why?" He seems puzzled.

"Your dad is _totally_ renting our house! That reminds me that I need to call Ryan and see how his meeting went with Sandy."

"This is getting weird," Taylor cuts in.

"Ah, great to know you're doing business with my old man. I knew he was renting a house here now, but I didn't expect it to be yours. By the way, who's Ryan?"

"Her husband," Taylor answers for me.

"Right. Got it. Sorry," He says. He almost looks a little bit hurt though I have no clue why. Strange.

"So who is he?" Seth asks, almost bitterly. "Wait, let me guess... Ryan Anderson... most popular water-polo player in the ninth grade. Peed in my shoes multiple times along with Luke Ward and Chip Davis."

I'm really confused. He's being kind of rude right now. Actually rude would be a major understatement.

"No. His name is Ryan Atwood. He's the love of my life. And no. He didn't go to Harbor. He's from Chino."

"Oh." His entire body relaxes slightly, and he seems less upset now.

"You never struck me as the type of girl to marry a guy from outside of Newport."

"Why are you being like this? What did I ever do to you?" My tone isn't angry or confrontational. I'm just a little bit hurt and confused. I'm not sure what he means by what he just said, but it sure as hell sounds like an insult.

"That was actually a compliment," He counters. "And you didn't do anything to me. That would have required you to speak to me back in high school. I had the biggest crush on you, but no matter what I did to get your attention, you'd ignore me. But right now I'm being sincere. I thought for sure you'd settle down with some Newport asshole jock, but it seems you found someone else, and I hope he's a good guy because, Summer, you deserve it."

Okay, well that's actually kind of sweet.

"Ryan is a great guy," Taylor pipes in. "You should meet him sometime. I think you'd like him... well as long as you don't dis Luke Ward in front of him," She laughs. "That's his best friend, but don't worry. Luke's changed since high school. You wouldn't even recognize him. He's a good guy. He's not the same person who used to pee in your shoes."

"Yeah, people change. And... your dad's renting our house now... so I don't see why not," I agree. "Atwood's a bit under the weather, but when he gets back on his feet, I'm sure he'd love to meet you," I add, choosing my words carefully.

"What's wrong with Ryan?" Seth asks. "Is he okay?"

"He's looking for a job still. And like I said, he's under the weather, but he'll be alright," I reply, trying not to say too much.

"What kind of job is he looking for?"

"Why, would you like to help him find one?" Taylor asks, hopeful.

"Maybe."

"He wants to be an architect," I explain. "That dream got shattered along with his right hip in an accident a few years ago. Since then, it's been a struggle. He can't do manual labor because he's in too much pain, but at this point he'll take any job that helps us pay the bills so if you know anyone who will hire him, that'd be great."

"What are his credentials?" Seth asks with what seems like genuine interest.

"He's got three years of community college under his belt. His focus was pre-architecture and mathematics. He's worked with a couple of architectural affirms before... once as an assistant and once as a secretary."

"I'll keep that in mind," Seth nods.

"So what have you been up to these days?" Taylor asks him, smiling brightly. If I didn't know better, I'd think she's developing a crush on him. Or maybe she already has one.

"Just staying busy. I majored in art at Brown University and then I studied in Japan for two years. Now I write graphic novels and draw characters for manga."

"Oh my God, Seth! That's so cool!" She beams. "I love manga and anime! Kimi no Iru Machi is my favorite, and I also love Hajime no Ippo..."

"I've drawn a few graphics for both of those," He says proudly. "It's just a little thing I do."

"Well I'd love to see your drawings sometime and you've gotta see my Katana action figure collection! We totally have to exchange numbers!"

"You collect those too? I thought I was the only one," He replies. "And I really like Bloodbath 4."

"Oh my God, really?"

With almost _too_ _much_ enthusiasm, Taylor quickly claps her hands together and adds: "Me too! Right before bed! I know several people who don't like it because it's so violent, but I really think they are missing out because despite all the blood and gore, it is intricate and artistic. It's just so beautiful and soothing at the same time..."

"I couldn't agree more," He chuckles.

"We're like soul mates!" She squeals.

Wow, okay. It's confirmed. _Somebody_ has a crush...

I excuse myself, leaving Taylor and Seth to their conversation while I check on my daughter, who I notice sitting by herself in a corner away from the other kids in the play area.

"Lani, come here, sweetie." She slowly obeys and I gently stroke her long hair. "What's wrong?" I ask, worried.

"I miss Daddy," She whispers, a frown forming on her delicate features. "It's more fun playing in the ball pit with Daddy." Trying to comfort her, I hold her in a loving embrace. "When are we going home?" She pouts. She looks so much like her dad when she does that.

"I miss him too, sweetie, but we're not going home until tomorrow evening." I take her hand and lead her towards the front of the restaurant, handing her her kids meal.

"Wait, she has a kid?" I hear Seth ask my best friend as I approach them with Lani in tow.

"Yeah, why?" Taylor answers.

I admit Seth's attitude is throwing me for a loop. First he seemed hurt when he found out I was married and now he's being all weird about me having a child.

"Wow. I...I didn't know."

"Lani, this is Seth. He's a new friend of ours," I interrupt them, introducing my daughter.

"Hi Sethy!" She smiles and I can tell she likes him already.

"Seth, this is Lani. It's short for Alana."

"Hi, Lani. Wow, you're really pretty just like your mom."

I can feel my cheeks flushing as he flashes Lani a lopsided smile, stretching his hand out for her to shake. His awkward movement tells me that either he's really nervous or he hasn't been around a lot of kids, but he's trying and he's being so sweet so it's okay.

"Well, we've gotta go now, but it was nice meeting you, Cohen. My number's on here," I say, handing him one of my business cards.

"And here's mine. Also, if you keep up with online blogs, I've got one," Taylor adds, sounding a little too excited.

"I do keep up with blogs," He blushes. I can tell Seth likes Taylor just as much as she seems to like him.

"Oh, yay! Well let me give you the url!" She scribbles down her web address and e-mail and hands it to him as we begin walking towards the exit.

"We'll talk to you soon."

"Okay, talk to you fine ladies soon. And I feel good about this! Looks like the cosmos are finally aligning and everything's going to be A-okay. And bye, little lady," He waves to Lani and I chuckle at what he said. He's certainly a one of a kind. That's for sure.

"Bye, Sethy," Lani coos, and I have to admit, I feel good about this new friendship too.

* * *

><p><em>And we both know how—how we're going to make it work when it hurts.<em>

_When you pick yourself up you get kicked to the dirt,_

_Trying to make it work, but man these times are hard_

"How'd I get dragged into this again?" I ask, shutting the passenger door to Luke's truck and stretching out my right leg. God it hurts. "You know I'm not really into... live music."

"You're not getting outta this. You never go out. You need this. Besides, even the doctor said you shouldn't stay cooped up in the house and we're already here," Luke counters. My fucking leg is killing me, and I can feel a bead of sweat drip down my forehead as I start walking towards our destination—if you can even call it walking. I'm beginning to regret not bringing my cane.

Luke must notice my discomfort because he asks, "Didn't you take your drugs today?"

I give him my best glare. I hate when he refers to my medication as drugs. I know he doesn't mean it like that, but for some reason a light bulb always flashes in my head when I hear the word. I just automatically associate it with all things negative. My uncle did heroin. Dawn was an alcoholic and got addicted to several uppers to balance her downer-phase. My fucking poor excuse for a dad was addicted to crystal meth. Trey did a lot of coke. Those are drugs. Vicodin? Okay, so yes, someone can get addicted to it, but I only take the amount I'm supposed to, and it's prescribed. It's not harming anybody, and it's the only medication so far that has brought me any kind of relief. I just wish it didn't make me feel so buzzed and drowsy when I'm on it. You can't exactly get a lot done when you're falling asleep.

"If you're referring to my meds, then yes, Doc. I took them this morning," I answer, annoyed.

"No wonder you're so grumpy," He snorts.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Chino, man... I love you, but you should see yourself when you're on that shit. It makes you look high as a kite. When you're not on it? The Grouch, definitely. Anyway, it's good that you took it this morning. It's obviously wearing off by now and—"

"How is that a good thing?" I wince, stepping onto my bad leg. He opens the door and I limp into the pub behind him. "Can we sit down already?"

"That bad, huh? You seemed fine just minutes ago," He frowns. "I thought you were having a good day. The pain didn't seem that bad earlier."

"Yeah, well... that was before I spent half an hour cramped in your stupid truck...," I mutter.

"Hey, don't insult Black Beauty. And you agreed to come. Besides, you need to get out more. Live a little."

"I still can't believe you named your truck. And I agreed to come because as much as I hate to admit it, you can be pretty damn persuasive," I say, scanning the spacious, dim-lit room for a place to sit. "It's cool though... just... let's please sit down."

My eyes focus in on an unoccupied booth in the far left corner and Luke must catch on because he pats me on the back and begins walking in that direction.

"Sorry, man. Let me put you out of your misery," He replies, slowing his pace so that I can keep up with him. I turn my head just enough to catch the thoughtful glance he sends my way, and after reaching the booth, we get settled and begin talking.

"So this is the Bait Shop?" I ask, my eyes wandering around the room and taking in my surroundings. It's noisy in here, and the band playing is giving me a mild headache, but other than that it's okay.

"Yeah, it was my high school hang out spot. I thought it would be cool to finally take you here. Show you how my world used to be. You like?"

I shrug my shoulders. "It's cool."

"So how'd it go with Mr. Cohen?" He changes the subject.

"Good."

"Very descriptive, Chino."

"He gave me the signed paperwork and we talked. He's a nice guy," I shrug, not in the mood to go into detail right now about my conversation with Sandy. I'll tell Luke eventually, but I'm too drained at the moment and all I can think about is Summer.

"Great! So it worked out. By the way, when exactly is Summer coming back?"

I draw in a deep breath and shift my weight in the bar stool so that I am facing him. Almost absentmindedly tapping my fingers against the concrete counter top, I answer: "Not sure. She says she's coming back with Lani tomorrow evening, but..."

"But you worry she may not," He finishes my thought and I slowly nod.

Just as he's about to say something else, a curvacious woman with shoulder length blonde hair approaches our table. Her short black dress and high heels look great on her, but I can tell it's work attire. She must be a bartender.

"Hey babe," Luke flirts. Still facing the mysterious woman, I quickly glance over at Luke through my peripheral vision and fight to suppress laughter as he swallows hard, visibly turned on by her.

"Hey, yourself," She teases. "So, Luke. You brought a friend." Interesting. So she knows him already.

She looks me up and down and says in a sultry voice, "I approve."

Since I'm not used to being complimented in this town, I can feel my cheeks turning red, but not even seconds later, my stomach churns with guilt. Summer's the only woman I have eyes for.

Luke meets my gaze and frowns a little bit. I'm guessing it's because he notices how uncomfortable and out of place I'm feeling right about now.

"Already taken," He answers her flatly, giving me a knowing smile and relieving the tension.

"I know. Summer's very lucky to have you," The blonde woman smiles, and I can tell she's being genuine. I'm not sure how she knows I'm married to Summer unless Luke told her something, but given how gossip spreads around this town, I guess everybody knows.

"Jess Sathers," She introduces herself, holding out a hand for me to shake.

"Ryan Atwood," I reply, returning the handshake.

"I'm one of the bartenders here. Luke and I went to high school together," She clues me in on how they know each other. I nod in understanding, giving her a weak smile.

"So can I get you guys anything?" She asks, winking at Luke.

"Yeah, can we have two beers please? Corona Extra?" He asks.

"Luke–"

"Come on, Chino. It'll loosen you up a little," He insists. I think he realizes that's not what I'm worried about because he adds, "It's on me."

I sigh and give Jess a tight smile.

"Okay," I agree. It's a nice gesture on Luke's part—not that I'd expect anything different. He's always trying to get me to go out and have a little bit of fun, and it's cool that he always remembers which beverages I like. My mom sure as hell didn't.

"Damn, she's hot," Luke says as Jess walks away. I roll my eyes.

"Then why don't you go out with her?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow. "She seems nice enough."

"We'll see," He replies. "She was into drugs and was crazy wild back in high school, but she's really changed... really mellowed out. She got her life together and went to USC. Now she works here on the weekends, but she manages a little clothing boutique on the weekdays."

"That's really cool, man. It's about time you get a girl and settle down anyway. I'm all for it."

"Yeah?" He asks, clearly seeking my approval.

"Yes. Definitely."

"Thanks," He says. "You know, I take your advice very seriously."

"Glad to hear it," I smile.

Almost on cue, Jess returns with our beers and flirts a little more with Luke before leaving to attend to another customer.

"So what else is on your mind?" Luke meets my gaze, concerned.

After a few swigs of cold beer, I'm definitely feeling a little bit more relaxed and open so I decide to tell him everything.

"I'm scared she's gonna leave me," I answer honestly. "For good. I keep thinking that one day I'm going to get home and she and Lani will be out of my life forever."

"Come on, Chino. She's not gonna leave you."

"How do you know?" I scratch the back of my head, feeling my jaw clench nervously.

"Because I saw her in the mall today before I came here," He assures me.

"You were in the mall?" I raise an eyebrow, surprised. "Doing what?"

"My mom's in town for the week and asked me to pick up some lotion for her."

"You talked to Summer?" I ask probably a little too quickly. I don't want Luke to notice how desperate I'm feeling.

"No. I saw her with Taylor and Lani. But she stood up for you, man. You shoulda seen it. A couple of Newpsies were putting you down and Summer went off on them. The last thing she yelled is that she'd never divorce you."

I really don't know what to say to that. I don't know what to say or even what I'm actually feeling right now, but I'd imagine it's a combination of bewilderment, pride, relief, and doubt among other things.

"Wha—what?" I manage to say.

"Dude, you should see your face right now," Luke snickers. "But seriously, you have nothing to worry about. I saw it with my very own eyes. She loves you, man. She's in love with you. She won't leave you."

"Wow. She did that, huh?" I ask as the realization hits me. She stood up for me even when people of power in the community were putting me down. I admit I had been a little worried that she'd choose her reputation over me if things got to be too bad. Now I feel like an ass for ever doubting her.

"Yeah, she did. So what else is on your mind?" He asks, finally beginning to sip on his beer.

"Well, I want to do something special for her, and I want it to be a surprise. When she comes back tomorrow, she'll have the time of her life. She deserves it."

"You know, instead of Chino, I should probably call you the Romantic," Luke jokes.

"I'm not...romantic." It's true. I don't see myself as a romantic guy. I just...care. That's all.

"Yeah, that's why you're blushing right now," He laughs.

"I'm not..."

"For Chrissakes, man... you proposed to her at the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary—giving her a strawberry cheese cake that read "Summer Roberts, will you marry me?" in fancy chocolate letters."

"Well I was proposing to her. That's kind of a big deal... and she loves sea otters and strawberry cheesecake is her favorite..."

"My point exactly," Luke snorts. "You care enough about her feelings to know everything she likes and go out of your way to rock her world. That's romantic. I always knew you were a girl at heart." He's really taking this whole 'romantic' thing too far.

"Calling me a girl, Ward? That's not the way to forge a bond." I glare at him. Maybe that'll get him to shut up.

"Dude, you like The Notebook."

"Hey, that was a good—never mind," I catch myself before he can tease me any further. "Summer made me watch it."

"I'm sure she did," Luke teases.

"Okay, I'm about to kick your ass if you keep this up."

"Yeah, but if you kick my ass, then you're on your own with this shit," He smirks.

"You've got a point," I sigh. "Okay, but no more girl jokes. And don't use the 'R' word. My right leg might be fucked up, but I can still club you with my right fist."

He throws his hands up in mock surrender – feigning fear, and we both share a laugh.

"Alright, so how are we going to do this?" He asks.

"Well the first time Summer and I had dinner together, I made her tortellini alla panna and..."

"Dude. To this day I still don't get where you learned to cook all this shit. You should be on Iron Chef or something."

"I worked in an Italian restaurant back in Chino," I shrug. "Anyway, so we can get a couple bottles of Two Buck Chuck from Trader Joe's."

"What the hell is that?"

"It's the wine we had on our first date," I snort. Of course Luke wouldn't know about cheap wine. He's from Newport. "It's Charles Shaw wine. It's actually pretty high quality, but it costs $2 a bottle – hence the name."

"Okay, so I help you get the wine and ingredients for dinner and what else?"

"Her favorite flowers are purple dahlias. We can pick up a bouquet... and some purple rose pedals too."

"Purple?" He asks. "Why not red?"

"What do you think, man? Purple is her favorite color."

"You know, for someone who grew up having one night stands, you put me to shame when it comes to the ladies."

"It's called research. Theresa taught me some stuff too."

"Yeah, I remember when you introduced me to her at your wedding. She's got a killer rack, dude."

I give him a dirty look, and he busts out laughing. "What? It's true," He adds.

"Whatever. Anyway, so we good? I think we covered everything."

"What about dessert?" He asks, finishing off his beer.

"Strawberry cheesecake, of course," I smile, thinking about the day I proposed to my wife.

"Alright, then let's hit the road."

**TBC.**


End file.
